Absence Of Shadows
by Tidia
Summary: ATF/AU One event during a bust has ramifications for Vin and an impact on the rest of the team. Written in 2000.
1. Chapter 1

The Absence of Shadows  
_an ATF/AU_

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own or profit from the use of Magnificent Seven characters owned by Trilogy, Mirsch, MGM and John Watson. Thank you to MOG for creating a wonderful universe.  
Rating: M14  
Comments: This story was inspired by Tiffany's fic Oblivion, the discussion I had with MOG concerning Oblivion, a Boston Globe article, Robert Whiting's Tokyo Underworld, and David Kaplan's extensive information. I would not be able to write this story if it wasn't for the assistance of MOG as my beta and friend. Another round of thanks goes out to the patience of Shay and Kim for allowing me to bounce ideas off of them. THeir opinions are highly valued. Lastly I wish to thank all who take the time out to write feedback (especially Darla and Teresa) it is greatly welcomed. Circa 2000

* * *

_On high narrow road_  
_old traveler clears wide swath,_  
_tiny scythe glinting._  
_Matsuo Basho_

* * *

**One Week Earlier**  
**Coroner's Office**  
**Seattle, Washington**

The smooth body with its myriad of discoloration lay cold on the metallic table. There were not many places where white skin shined through. It made the body seem even younger than what Dr. Trundel deduced to be about twenty-two years of age. There was no identification found on the young man's body.

He was short in stature, but broad in shoulder. Probably had been working out, the coroner mused to himself. The doctor brushed the dark, longish hair off the boy's brow and felt the cranium. The John Doe before him had met an awful death. 'Blunt force trauma' always seemed, to Trundel, like such a mild term for the amount of violence used when describing an injury such as this -apparent repeated strikes of the victim's head against a hard surface. He would know more once he started the autopsy.

"I feel sorry for you, son." He said to the dead body. "Murder is not a happy death." The doctor's one way conversation with the corpse ended with the shrill ring. Trundel removed his latex gloves as he reached for the phone.

"Coroners," he stated, as he adjusted his reading glasses.

"Hey, Bob, don't touch that body we brought you." The voice said on the line.

"Why Steve? What's up?" The coroner said to the officer who had brought the body into the morgue.

"Works for the government. They'll be here soon and handle things." Trundel stared at the body; surprised such a young man worked in law enforcement.

"Okay," the doctor answered and hung up the phone. He went back to the body, and pulled the blue paper sheet over the naked form.

* * *

_Now the night descends,_  
_My hostelry is the shadow of a cherry tree._  
_My host; a flower._  
_Tairo no Tadanori_

* * *

**Warehouse District**  
**Denver, Colorado**

Vin stood, shifting his weight onto one leg. They had been there over an hour. Ezra was nearby weaving his spell, making a deal with a criminal, in the abandoned warehouse. The DEA had asked Team 7 to take over the case involving drugs for guns. They were busy and the ATF had the reputation of helping out, even though they had the least amount of manpower. Katsimoto Ikeda, the dealer, or 'adversary,' as Standish liked to say, had brought 5 men for backup.

The 5 men dressed in full suits, the same as the sharpshooter and undercover agent. As soon as they met Tanner, they had sized him up. Vin returned the stare, and now they were each in their own corners. Vin, with his arms crossed and one eye on Ezra. The five bodyguards congregating together on the opposite side talking about Tanner and keeping watch over five crates of guns that Vin and Ezra had delivered.

It was always the same lately. The bad guys were predictable. Vin could close his eyes and know exactly what Ezra was doing and how everything would go down. Chris and the rest of the team would move in yelling, "ATF," and another bust would be made. Then it would be on to the next assignment.

Vin looked over to the table, which contained a suitcase of cocaine packets. Tanner studied the man making the deal. He was a slight man of Japanese descent. He didn't look threatening and seemed to have a smile on his face since he walked in. Ezra had made the contact with him, and had told Team 7,

"He is an inconsequential peon. But as long as I've done the work we may as well add it to our arrest record."

Vin had to control a grin that almost erupted on his serious face. He remembered Ezra's droll tone of voice. It was Tanner's own boredom being echoed. They needed a vacation or an adrenaline rush. Maybe they should go bungi jumping this weekend. He'd have to ask Standish once they finished.

In the meantime, he studied Katsimoto Ikeda, while he pretending to clean the grime from under his fingernails. Ikeda didn't talk to his men, which meant they were probably familiar with the routine. Except this time would be different. It would end in an arrest.

Vin took a few steps in, to be closer to Ezra, closing the six-foot gap to just three. He didn't know what to do with his hands. He felt uncomfortable putting them in his pants pockets. It was so much easier to wear a pair of jeans then a pinstriped wool suit, although Ezra would disagree. It looked awkward when a man walked with his hands in his suit pockets. Vin compromised and clasped his hands behind his back, pulling the shoulders of his suit jacket slightly.

"Mister Ikeda, it was a pleasure doing business with you." Ezra extended his arm to close the case containing the cocaine. His Piaget watch flashed on his wrist as his suit sleeve pulled up. He had already given the five crates of semi-automatics and assault weapons to the Asian man. The cocaine had been tested for purity when they got there. The powdery drug was of excellent quality.

By Ezra taking the case, the deal would be done and arrests could be made. Damn, Vin thought, then reports would have to done and it would be an afternoon of paperwork. Maybe before heading back to the office they could stop at Starbucks.

"Shall we celebrate?" The Asian man said as he took out a packet of cocaine that had previously been tested, stopping Ezra from closing the case.

Standish gave a peripherally glance to Tanner. Vin knew the undercover agent was uncomfortable, as was the sharpshooter. This bust had taken an unexpected turn. Tanner should have known never to get lulled into complacency. The sharpshooter had been daydreaming of excitement and a possible caffeine rush. He was getting as bad as JD; allowing his mind to wander instead of paying attention to his job. Vin could feel his heart beat faster in anticipation of the unknown.

"How so?" The Southerner drawled.

"Don't you want a taste of the merchandise?" Ikeda said as he handed the packet to one of his henchmen.

The bodyguard clutched it, went to the table, and with a razor blade made a few thin lines. He looked over at his boss who gave him a nod. Vin watched as the man bent his body so that his nose was up to the white, powdery drug. The bodyguard finished, stood up and wiped his nose.

"I have a weak heart." Ezra begged off. "I've already suffered one heart attack, would rather not try to see the Creator again any time soon. " Standish smiled. Vin gave him a nod believing he had found a way out of a precarious situation. Ezra again went to grab the large, black, leather case.

Ikeda gripped his arm and stopped him; his long hands seemed like claws. "Really, I must insist." He let go of Ezra's arm. "I have quite the deal coming up and I'd like you to be a part of it."

"Deal?" Standish said with a smile trying to get the man to forget about the cocaine. "What kind of deal?" Ezra slowly crept his arm to the case.

"First, we must achieve the desired wa . . .umm. . .harmony." The drug dealer said glancing at Ezra's hand.

The undercover agent pulled back his hand, and carefully adjusted his suit sleeve. "Ah, yes, of course." Standish answered, stumbling over his words.

Vin caught the undercover agent's eye. They exchanged a look, which said, 'This lunatic started his day with a little coke that's why he's been smiling. We could lose our lives, this deal and maybe frying a bigger fish.' Tanner glanced down and studied the gray, cement floor, slimed over from past use. Gray, that is the color he worked in. Life for him was never black or white except when it came to his friends. Tanner spoke up.

"Ya need to have your head clear to talk business with Mr. Ikeda." He walked to the table by the two men, his new shoes squeaking as he went. He gave a quick bow to Ikeda and moved slowly to the lines of cocaine left by the bodyguard. Vin didn't think the drug dealer would follow him. The sharpshooter thought he would have a chance to somehow not ingest the vile drug.

Tanner was wrong again. Ikeda stood next to him, smiling, almost as if he could read, and enjoyed, Vin's discomfort. The sharpshooter had kept his head bowed not meeting the green eyes he knew had followed him. He cocked his head up to catch the stare and closed his eyes giving Ezra a message that everything would be all right. The knot in his stomach was telling him otherwise. Standish gave the sharpshooter an imperceptible nod and moved slightly to the left, blocking the camera JD had set up earlier.

Vin took a deep breath and bit the inside of his lip as he stared at the neat white lines. No one would know what he was about to do. The team, waiting, hidden outside the building, would think Vin had pulled a fast one. After all, he was street smart.

The same streets where he had learned about drugs, this wouldn't be his first experience. Back when he first came to Purgatorio- he was a green kid he didn't realize everyone gives you a sample so that you'd be hooked. But, Vin hadn't enjoyed the loss of control. Probably why he was usually the one ending up designated driver when the team cut loose with one of their 'binge nights'.

Vin clenched his hands trying to squelch the feeling of taking his Glock, shooting everyone and getting the hell out of the situation. One sniff, it would be done and it would be worth it. The team would be able to take down bigger players, and get some drugs and guns off the street.

"Yeah, right," Tanner whispered out loud, seeing only gray in his mind. The white lines were beckoning. Resigned, Vin bent down and saw only black.

* * *

**Warehouse District**  
**Denver, Colorado**

Ezra, by taking that one step, had just involved himself in a conspiracy. Ezra Standish, much-lauded ATF undercover agent, could not come up with a solution. He thrived on unorthodox methods and being prepared for any scenario.

He hadn't thought his assignment through though. IT was a DEA remnant. He didn't give it his full attention. Standish would never make that mistake again. He would always be reminded of the thirty seconds it took for Vin to walk to the table and snort the cocaine.

Why had he let him go through with it? Why hadn't Ezra just turned the table over and gotten the hell out of there dragging Vin with him. When had the job become this important?

He knew the answers. Everything changed in Ezra's life when he met the seven men. They formed a cohesive team, which got results. This only strengthened Ezra's and, he knew, Vin's desire to put more criminals away. So he watched his friend snort cocaine so that they could get the bigger player, the larger bust and walk away with their lives intact. Then he would be part of a cover-up; Vin could count on him. This wasn't like his stint with the FBI where innuendo followed him and no one stood up for Standish. This time, the undercover agent vowed, would be different. No one would know. Ezra was thankful they were not wearing wires. According to JD, after nearly an hour of testing and repositioning, the equipment was prone to audible feedback in the warehouse  
due to interference with nearby radio towers, and deemed unreliable. Standish had the camera covered, the next step was to get the information about the upcoming negotiations and get out. From there, Vin and Ezra would think of a plan. Standish hoped Tanner would not show any side effects from the one line of coke.

When the sharpshooter finished he looked up at Ezra, meeting his gaze. For a second all pretenses were dropped, and Standish could see the melancholy in the sharpshooter's face. The undercover agent wanted to offer some kind of physical contact - a touch of the shoulder, hell, even one of those irritating 'Buck punches on the arm' - *something* that would let Tanner know that things would be okay. Then in a moment the twisted grin was in place. They had to finish what they had put into motion.

"I'm fine," Vin said as he walked past Ikeda without a glance and took position beside Ezra.

Standish looked down at his watch; as if he was annoyed that time had been wasted. He hit the button on the side of his watch that would signal the team not to come in.

"Can we finish our discussion?" Standish drolled to the Asian man. Ezra wanted to wipe that damned smile off his face. Katsmutra Ikeda was proving to be a devious bastard; Ezra had not expected the jovial man to pull this kind of stunt. It was another reminder of the undercover agent's guilt regarding his less than perfect handling of the case.

Ikeda signaled to his brawny bodyguards to commence carrying the weapons crates to a white van that had been pulled into the warehouse when the criminals had arrived. "I have a deal- very profitable one with the Yakuza. I need another player to provide weapons."

Standish heard Tanner whistle through his teeth. Ezra smothered his loud exhale. He hadn't had any dealings with the Yakuza; in fact, the FBI had a special department within the agency that specifically dealt with that particular Asian crime syndicate.

Ikeda turned his back and began to walk to the van. He turned, and gestured that they walk with him. Vin was looking up at the metal ceiling beams so intently that Standish had to give him a push forward. Tanner shook off the hand, and gave the undercover agent an imperceptible nod saying he was fine. Standish closed the suitcase of cocaine and carried it with him.

Ikeda began speaking before they caught up to him. "I allowed this initial deal to judge you Mr. Simpson. I will be contacting you. Take care." The van door was opened and Ikeda stepped in. Vin helped slide the door shut. The bodyguard who had taken up position as the driver gestured for Standish and Tanner to leave first.

They went to the large entrance and slid the doors open. Ezra helped push the plank door and it easily opened. Standish could see sweat beading along Vin's hairline, and half hoped that Tanner would not fail with tradition and pull his long mane loose of the ponytail at his neck before they hooked back up with the rest of the team.

The sunlight outside was bright at one o'clock in the afternoon, and Standish pulled his Armani sunglasses from the inside of his Canali suit. Vin shielded his eyes with his hand, and went straight to the Jag, parked across the alley.

Keeping in step with Tanner, Ezra silently held out his hand and felt the weight of the Jaguar's keys as his partner relinquished them. No, Vin was not going to be driving.  
Standish opened the trunk of his black car and placed the suitcase under a blanket. He got in the car, and not a word was spoken until the white van departed. The southerner placed the key in the ignition, and turned the engine.

His eyes were locked forward. He had risked a quick sidelong glance at Tanner as the man settled himself into the passenger's seat of the car, but Standish knew the last thing Vin needed was to feel as if he were being scrutinized.

So Ezra stared ahead into the disgustingly beautiful brightness of the day, finally breaking the tense silence as they pulled away from the curb. "How are you feeling?"

* * *

**Warehouse District**  
**Denver, Colorado**

In the front of the building mixed in with the vehicles of the warehouse workers was a non-descript, gray Dodge Cargo van. Chris, JD and Nathan were inside monitoring the video screen. Buck and Josiah were nearby acting like warehouse workers and moving boxes around in the warehouse next door. Larabee saw the red button light up on the console, which met that bust was not going down. The leader slammed his hand on the keyboard of the laptop. "What the f*** are they doing?"

JD swiveled in his chair and removed the small computer from Chris's grasp. He carefully stroked the keys. The young agent was in charge of the equipment and was always lecturing about the team's abusive behavior toward the various gadgets.

"What 'they' are we talking about?" Buck whispered, into his microphone.

Chris exhaled and stood up, only to discover he had to crouch down so his head did not hit the roof. He sat back down again. Nathan answered, relaying what they had seen on the screen.

"Something happened between Ikeda and Ezra. The exchange kind of stalled, and now the bust is called off." Chris looked at the video screen and then back at medic. Jackson was leaving part of the story out.

Puzzled, JD added the last bit. "It didn't help that Ezra blocked the camera."

Through his ear piece Larabee heard Buck's intake of breath and then the soft, "woohee."

"Seems as if our Brothers had to do a little improvising," Josiah's rich timbered voice said through his mike.

Chris smiled at Wilmington's cackled statement. "You're the one who said yes to the DEA, now Ez feels he has to outdo them and play cowboy with Vin along for the ride."

In the van, Chris heard faint chuckling that he silenced with a glare. He wasn't happy with taking the assignment, but that was how the ATF worked. He also understood that Buck, Josiah and the others were trying to give Larabee some perspective and tell him there was no need to be pissed off by the situation.

Larabee wasn't even bothered that the bust was cancelled. It had happened before and he trusted Vin and Ezra's instincts. This time though, when he saw that red light go on, something in the back of Chris's mind was telling him the team was heading for trouble. It was made worse when Standish stood in front of the camera. Before that, Chris had found himself clenching his fists as he watched his two agents act strangely. It was nothing he could pinpoint, it was just a gut reaction.

"They're leaving." JD said, zooming in the camera so the van's occupants saw Ezra shaking hands with Ikeda.

"Buck and Josiah get back here." Larabee announced to his men in the warehouse. Chris watched Vin and Ezra walk out into the sunlight. He tapped his foot nervously, waiting for enough time to elapse so that he could call his two agents and find out what had happened. He pulled out his cell phone and started dialing. It was answered on the second ring.

"What the hell is going on, Ezra?" The darkly clad leader growled into the phone. At the same time Buck and Josiah had arrived at the van.

"I can see Chris is using those management skills of his," Buck said as he removed the microphone and earpiece and handed them to JD. Josiah followed suit.

Larabee wasn't paying attention to Wilmington's antics. He was waiting for the undercover agent's reply, which he could not hear over the loud music that suddenly came blaring though the phone.

"Ezra!" Chris yelled into the phone, losing any fragments of patience he had left. The tension, which had started in his lower back suddenly began to crawl up his spine.

'"Sorry, Agent Tanner hit the wrong button." Standish quickly explained. The undercover agent's Southern drawl became more pronounced as he slowly spoke into the phone. "We are now involved in a deal with the Yakuza."

Chris ran his hand down his face. "F***," he said under his breath. This case just got huge and technically was out of his jurisdiction. He would have to think about how to proceed. "Shit," Larabee said a little louder. The epithet got the attention of the others. Buck mouthed, 'What's up?' to Chris. The leader held up one finger, signaling the others to give him a minute and then he would explain. "We'll meet you back at the office." He said into the cell phone.

"Yes. . .aahh. . ." Ezra stuttered. "We'll . . .ummm. . . be there shortly."

Chris rolled his eyes. He didn't need this sh** from the undercover agent today. Larabee grinned and with minimal lip movement snarled, "This 'Ezra' time or normal time?"

Ezra replied with a nervous chuckle. "I see the rumors of your lack of humor are incorrect, Agent Larabee."

Chris shook his head and closed the phone. The tension had seemed to settle firmly in his left shoulder and he rolled the offending region, trying to relieve the tightness. He wouldn't feel better until he knew word for word what had happened in that warehouse with Ezra and Vin.

* * *

**A side street**  
**Denver, Colorado**

Vin stared at the red spot on the top of his hand where Ezra had slapped him. He just wanted to put the radio on, and take his mind off of the cocaine coursing through his veins.

"Keep it together, Tanner," The sharpshooter hissed to himself. Ezra was on the phone with Chris. He saw Standish fidget in the leather seats of the Jaguar. The undercover agent was trying to think for the both of them. Vin would have to trust him for now. He couldn't think straight. All he could hear was the fast beating of his heart echoing in his ears.

Tanner rested his hands for a second on the back of his neck before bringing them forward, covering his face from the light coming through the windshield. His hands were covered in sweat and shaking. Vin let them fall and pushed the button to lower the window. He needed fresh air. He tore the elastic from his hair, and felt the cold, sweaty strands jump across his face and neck.

Ezra closed his phone and placed it back in his suit pocket. "We have to go back to the office." Ezra sighed, both hands lightly on the steering wheel. "Are you going to make it?" He pointed to Vin's right hand.

Tanner furrowed his brows and folded his hands together. He wanted to scream about his lack of control. He was glad that Ezra wasn't talking to him about what had just happened. There didn't seem to be enough room in his mind to go thinking about the warehouse right now.

Yet, a part of him felt confident and euphoric, giving him a feeling he could handle anything. "I'll take it minute by minute, and then...I need a favor, Ez."

"Anything," Standish answered. Vin knew he would agree. The undercover agent was easy for Tanner to read, even in his current drugged state. Ezra was feeling guilty. Vin couldn't deal with that now. He would have to fix that later.

Tanner thought of the only person who could help him with this predicament. "You need to take me to Kojay." He had mentioned the Native American chief before to the six men in passing. They didn't realize that Kojay was the one who helped Vin get some bearing in life after his stint with the army. He ended up traveling around the United States. Vin met Chanu, Kojay's son at bar in a hellhole in New Mexico. They got into some stupid fight. Chanu had been drinking too much due to the loss of his wife and unborn child. The sharpshooter was itching for a fight. They both ended up being taken to the reservation and there Tanner discovered his direction.

Kojay had been in Colorado staying with his daughter for a few months. The Chief would know how to purge the drug from his system and to give Vin back his balance.

Ezra nodded, while driving he placed a hand behind Vin's seat, and pulled out a bottle of Evian water for the parched sharpshooter. "So our plan is to fool our friends and then disappear." The undercover agent said sarcastically.

Tanner struggled to open the bottle. The plastic safety cap was sealed tightly, and Vin couldn't seem to get a grip on the white top. "Piece of cake," Tanner said as he finally opened the water.

* * *

**Federal Building**  
**Denver, Colorado**

Ezra and Vin were silent on the elevator up to the eleventh floor. Standish took the few minutes to mentally curse the day, then pray that Tanner could get through the meeting so far they had made it through dropping the evidence off. Neither man had a chance to go to their desks. As the elevator door swished open, the secretary pointed to the conference room where the rest of the team had already gathered.

"We're on," Ezra said, as he pushed on the dark paneled door of the room. Standish went to his seat next to Buck and across from Vin who sat next to Chris.

"Ezra, I thought you hated ugly?" Standish almost jumped when Wilmington broke the silence of the group.

The undercover agent was suspicious. "I do, why?" He said as he took out his mini, black leather, notebook and Montblanc pen from the inside of his suit pocket.

The mustached agent gave a whoop and patted Ezra on the back. "You've got us involved in some ugly sh**."

Ezra laughed and tried to relax. Out of the corner of his eye he watched as the sharpshooter planted his hands on top of the conference table. Vin sat rigidly in his chair and avoided eye contact with Chris. Tanner had explained in the car that as soon as he looked at Larabee-the man would know something was amiss.

Larabee started the meeting. "We put the time to good use and been trying to pool together what we know of the Yakuza."

Josiah began speaking next. "I know a little off the top of my head from spending time in Asia." Sanchez swiveled his chair so he was facing the whole team. "Boryokudan are commonly called the Yakuza; originally they were the bakuto or gamblers." Sanchez rested his hand on his forehead as if to pull more knowledge from his mind. "Yakuza comes from a card game called hanafuda, like blackjack. Funny thing, it's the losing hand 8-9-3 or ya-ku-sa."

Ezra kept his pen poised over his notebook. Slowly, he twisted the pen and put it down. Standish found the information interesting from a historical perspective, but knew the team needed current information. He interrupted the large agent. "The FBI has an Asian organized crime division," he announced, trying to recall some pertinent information from his Bureau days. "They are involved in money laundering, extortion and from what I've heard they have obscene profit margins. The Yakuza also have significant political clout."

JD, sitting next to Buck was furiously taking notes. "How come the FBI is involved?"

Ezra smiled, the young agent had asked a good question. "The FBI has maintained posts in American embassies known as legal attaché offices. These offices enable the FBI to receive a constant and prompt exchange of criminal data and other related information."

Buck reclined back in his chair and hissed, "Damn, those Fibbies are slimy." Wilmington gave the undercover agent a lazy smile. "No offense, Ez."

Ezra had half forgotten his days at the Bureau. They had been filled with negativity; with the ATF he was respected and amongst friends. "None taken," Standish mumbled as he directed his attention to Tanner who was relentlessly tapping a Bic pen against his teeth.

The noise caught the attention of Chris, who was looking at the sharpshooter intently. "Anything to add Vin?"

"Umm…what do I know? What do I know?" He cleared his throat as if trying to cover up that he just said his thoughts out loud. "There are these gangs called…" Vin tapped the blue pen against the table. Ezra glared at Vin, willing him to stop. " Bosozuku - speed tribes in Japan." Tanner giggled at the name of the gang. "They're delinquents, some of them end up being Yakuza." Ezra noticed the others were staring at Vin's mannerisms. Tanner must have felt the scrutiny also as he mumbled, "There are also some tough Asian gangs in Purgatorio."

Chris cleared his throat and turned his attention away from Tanner. "So you guys know this is big. This should be passed over to the FBI, but I 'd like to think the ATF can handle it." He looked at each of his men, Ezra noticed he skipped over Tanner. "Are we agreed?"

Standish looked at the other team members. He wanted to leave the FBI out of this, that way there would be less people that could possibly uncover what had happened in the warehouse. The team nodded in agreement.

"Hell, Chris, you know we don't like those other sh**ty acronyms." Buck chuckled, smoothing the edges of his mustache.

"We need to keep it quiet. I want to check with some Australian friends. We'll talk about it tomorrow and see if Ikeda makes contact." Chris closed his folder, which signaled the end of the meeting.

Ezra let his shoulders slump in relief. They had gotten through the meeting. He almost thought they would get away until he heard Chris reach the door and say,

"Vin, in my office."

Standish sat back in his chair and met the blue eyes that were staring at him from across the table.


	2. Chapter 2

The Absence of Shadows  
_Part 2_

* * *

_The sea at springtime._  
_All day it rises and falls,_  
_yes, rises and falls._  
_Buson_

* * *

**Chris's Office**  
**Federal Building**

Wordlessly, Vin stood up and placed his hands on the warm, dark, wooden table. It was solid and stable. The sharpshooter took in a deep breath, filling his lungs up with the stale air of the office, hoping to clear his head before facing Larabee. He gave Ezra a curt nod and strode out of the room and directly into Chris's office.

Vin closed the door softly. Larabee watched him as Tanner hunched down in the seat in front of the team leader's desk. He could feel Chris's green eyes baring down on him. Finally, Vin looked up into the face of his friend. Tanner noticed Chris's anger was flaring. A growing redness in his neck went to the top of his head. His eyebrows were knitted together.

In a deathly quiet voice he asked, "Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

Vin took a moment and rubbed what he knew had to be bloodshot eyes. "Nope." He sighed. He figured since Chris knew what happened, Vin might as well be honest and not piss Larabee off with subterfuge.

Larabee seemed to deflate a little, but his face still held its crimson color. "Then what the hell did you think you were doing?" Frustrated, Chris wadded up a piece of paper and threw it across his desk. It lingered in the air before hitting the floor.

Tanner's eyes followed the paper until it hit the floor and blended into the beige colored carpeting. "I thought it was better me than Ezra." Vin swallowed the bile from his stomach as the guilt rose in him. The sharpshooter wanted to avoid the confrontation with Chris. He didn't want to hear the disappointment in his best friend's voice.

"Damn, Vin." Chris bowed his head and massaged the same shoulder that had been giving him trouble in the Larabee closed his eyes then looked back at the errant agent. "It could have killed you."

Vin closed his eyes, feeling worse at having arisen Larabee's concern. Tanner knew his heart could have went after the snort. But at that moment he knew that was the least of his problems-Ikeda, information and blowing their cover. The sharpshooter didn't want to put Chris through any anxiety. Vin gave a twisted grin. "It was a calculated risk."

The leader shook his head and got up from his chair. He turned his back towards Tanner, and took in the view out his window. "You've been spending too much time with Ezra." Chris crossed his arms before continuing. "I knew something was wrong. Couldn't figure it out until you started talking a blue streak of nonsense back there. Then it just hit me-the fuckin' cocaine."

He stared at Chris's back. Vin slid down on the chair and let his neck rest uncomfortably on the top of the metal chair. Softly he replied, "Yeah, hit me too." He had felt confident in the warehouse that he could handle the fallout of his actions. It seemed now that everything was crumbling, and doubts were eating him as to if he followed the correct course of action. "What are you going to do?" Vin sighed as he gazed at the ceiling tiles. "The others may suspect, but they'll follow your lead."

There was a long pause before Chris answered. "I'll do what's best."

Vin sat up. He felt that was his cue to leave. The sharpshooter had some thinking to do and had to get the cocaine out of his system. He stood up and took a step toward his friend. "I never said I was perfect, Cowboy." Tanner waited for a response. He turned and went to the door. "I'm taking a personal day tomorrow." Vin said as he twisted the metal knob.

"Vin, I don't know if you're gonna have a job." The words cut through the silence of the office.

The sharpshooter rested his head against the doorframe in a moment of defeat. He took in a breath to regain his composure as he opened the door. "You'll do what's best."

Tanner strode through the office, not looking into the faces of his teammates. Roughly, he punched the elevator button. It didn't light up, Vin was about to slam his fist into the uncooperative button when he saw a manicured hand firmly push the disk.

"I gotta get outta here, Ez." Vin said, without looking at the undercover agent who was by his side.

* * *

**Chris's Office**  
**Federal Building**

Buck watched the sharpshooter rush through the office, and then Ezra raced after him. Wilmington played with his keyboard watching as non-sensical words turned up on the computer screen. The whole scene in the conference room had sealed it, while in the warehouse Vin had taken some cocaine and Ezra had tried to cover it up.

It didn't take much to figure out something was different about Tanner. Then Buck started to think it through and came to his conclusion. Wilmington maneuvered the mouse and clicked on the 'X' to close the program. He stretched as he got up from his chair. Buck entered Chris's office without knocking. Larabee had his head down scribbling notes roughly.

"Junior just left in a huff." Buck said as he took the seat recently vacated by Vin. He began picking the grit from his fingernails as he continued. "Ez left with him."

"Not now, Buck," the blond-haired man said without looking up.

The ladies' man was not going to let this go. As usual, Chris was trying to hide his emotional turmoil. That was worse than his angry explosions. Buck dragged the chair forward so it was closer to Larabee's desk. Buck leaned forward so he was only inches away from his friend. "I figured it out, Chris. Other guys on our team probably have too." Then Wilmington leaned back and waited.

Larabee threw his pen haphazardly against the wall. "Shit." Chris said in anger hoarse voice.

"It happens." Buck folded his arms across his chest. "He did it for good reasons." Wilmington knew Vin wouldn't just take cocaine for the heck of it. The fact that Ezra was standing by the sharpshooter was also a good sign. Buck didn't get hot and bothered about it. He trusted Vin and Ezra's instincts. If they felt Vin had to take the coke, than that was good enough for him.

"Buck, there aren't any good reasons." Chris glared at the congenial man in disbelief.

Wilmington leaned back in his seat. "He disappointed you? You thought he was lily white? He's a man, for Christ-sake." Buck couldn't understand why his friend was being so pig-headed.

"Whatever, I have some work to do." Larabee pulled another pen from the cheap mug that held some stray pencils and pens.

Buck didn't like being dismissed and couldn't believe he did not want to hash out what had happened. Vin had left in a huff. Wilmington knew something was wrong and was not about to let it drop. He recognized when Chris was being obstinate and stubborn. Damn him, Buck thought. He was going to make Larabee face the problem. "Who the hell are you Chris Larabee-the new drug czar. Think about it, all the shit you did after you lost Sarah and Adam. You sure it was all legal?"

Larabee didn't answer; he kept looking down at his desk blotter. Buck had hit a nerve and kept going. "Hell, we smoked weed together, and if I remember- we liked it." Buck recalled some lazy days that were not so long in the past. "You're also the guy who would do anything for the job." Wilmington had one more comment to make that he knew would get a reaction. "You're a lot like Vin."

"I'm a fucking ATF team leader." Chris suddenly stood up, breathing hard and fuming.

Buck stood up and smiled, happy he got some sort of reaction. "You got the fucked part right." Wilmington carefully placed the chair he had pulled forward back into place. "Better think this through before you nail Tanner's ass to the wall." He turned one more time to face his friend, stretching out his hands as if he was weighing something. "Disappointment or regret? You gotta decide what you can live with."

* * *

Josiah met Buck as he was backing out of Chris's office. Wilmington hadn't heard the large man come from behind him so Josiah was able to see Larabee's irate face before the door was closed.

"Damn Brother, what did you do?" Sanchez whistled, trying to recall the last time he had seen the leader ready to kill someone.

"Bringing some illumination, Brother." Buck grinned as he went back to his desk.

Josiah watched the lady's man walk away and then continued on his way to the break room for some coffee. Sanchez couldn't concentrate and figured some java would help. He knew though as he poured the liquid it was just a momentary diversion. Grabbing another cup of coffee he headed into Chris's office.

He entered as usual without knocking and placed the stryofoam cup on the leader's desk.

Chris gave a slight grin, "Thanks Josiah."

Sanchez gave a nod. "I know you all think I'm a saint because I can quote Bible verses."

Larabee gave him a puzzled look and crooked up an eyebrow.

Josiah put his hand up to gesture to the leader not to interrupt him. "Just think you should know I was young once in the 60s. I did some experimenting the Timothy Leary way."

Chris put his head in his hands and began rubbing his temples. "This is not open for discussion." Larabee gritted out through clenched teeth.

Sanchez didn't acknowledge Chris's reaction. "So Brother, if I ever have a flashback in the office I'll know there will be some serious repercussions."

"Damn it! It's not the same." Larabee said, at Josiah's retreating form.

Sanchez felt better having said his peace. Josiah had witnessed Vin's unnatural jitteriness in the conference room. He also saw how Ezra and the sharpshooter had become thick as thieves. It was trouble. The large agent knew exactly what the trouble was from too, even though he wasn't in the van. Somehow Tanner had taken the cocaine.

By Chris's demeanor, Josiah knew that the leader was not taking it well. He didn't want to add to the man's trouble but Josiah had to show he supported Vin. The large agent liked his teammates and each one was worth fighting for even if he had disregarded the rules.

Because of the blatant act, Sanchez couldn't admit to Chris he knew about Vin, nor could he have a discussion about the situation with Buck. Once the accusation was said out in the open, Tanner would be out.

Sanchez passed by Nathan's desk and gave him a wink as Jackson looked up. The medic gave the large agent a wan smile. In those dark eyes, Josiah could see that Nathan knew.

* * *

Nathan was trying to finish a report. He had to start over after Ezra and Vin left. Then Jackson lost his place when Buck went into Chris's office. Finally, he had to delete a paragraph after Josiah winked at him. As he kept pressing the delete key, he watched JD; smiling as he talked on the phone and tossing a koosh ball to Buck. Nathan wished he were as blissfully unaware as the young agent.

Instead, his medical training kept churning in his mind, forcing him to recognize the symptoms of drug use. Damn it, Jackson thought as he eased up on his voracious pressing of the keyboard. When had things gotten so out of control for Vin to have taken drugs to find out a little information about it an organization the medic didn't think they were up to dealing with.

He knew these men well. They believed they were indestructible or if they got hurt then Nathan would be there to help patch them up. Taking cocaine, though even once, could do damage and Jackson couldn't even say anything about to the sharpshooter. Nathan had to pretend he didn't know.

But, Nathan knew firsthand how things suddenly become uncontrollable. In college he was taking classes, working full time and then in his spare time working at a clinic. He knew he wanted to get involved with medicine. Soon he was falling asleep in class and unable to function. That was when his doctor 'friend' wrote him a prescription for amphetamines. In the beginning Nathan did fine, using the stimulants to help him juggle his hectic schedule. After a month of constant use though he was having trouble sleeping, then came the irritability. He felt stupid when he realized he was abusing drugs and immediately went cold turkey.

The memory though lingered and he was getting that overwhelming feeling he used to get in college. He looked around at the familiar faces of his friends. Nathan knew he couldn't help Vin, but he could help the team on this case. "We're in over our head," he mumbled to himself as he fingered through his Rolodex.

He dialed the number and waited for it to be picked up on the other end.

"Agent Perdy," was the reply through the receiver.

"Hey, Fred, Nathan Jackson." The FBI agent sounded surprised to hear from Nathan. The medic knew Fred from his military days. "You free for dinner? I need to pick your brain."

Nathan made arrangements to meet his friend at a small café. Vin thought he was justified in taking the cocaine and Nathan felt the same about asking Perdy for help, even though Chris did not want others involved. Hopefully Fred would provide some assistance with the Yakuza.

* * *

**Kobe, Japan**

The office building was dark. He sat at his desk overlooking Tokyo. The banners blaring garishly against the skyline, the bright lights reflected by his desk's lacquered finish. Other than that stream of jumbled colors, he sat in darkness. In a crumpled bag was his purchase, looking out of sorts amongst the carefully placed objects. He placed his hand in the sack pulling out the red, roly –poly, fierce-faced, character with two blank eyes. In Japan the Daruma doll was a popular gift for the New Year or at the start of a new endeavor.

He had a goal, which he aimed to reach. He took a marker out from his desk drawer and carefully painted the pupil in one eye. Once he was successful he would paint the other eye. He would get his revenge and the other eye would be painted soon, he promised solemnly to the paper-mache figure he held in his hand.

* * *

_He sees enough_  
_who doth_  
_his darkness see_  
_Lord Herbert of Cherbury_

* * *

**Driving on Highway**  
**North of Denver, Colorado**

Ezra and Vin had driven in silence for over two hours. They would be at their destination soon. Tanner had called his Native American friend and told him he was coming by for a visit. The sharpshooter was in the passenger seat with it reclining back, his arm haphazardly covering his eyes. Standish was getting tired of the scenery; one tree looked the same as the others. He saw Vin stirring and decided to start a conversation. He hadn't questioned the sharpshooter on what had gone on in Chris's office and Ezra was curious.

Standish cleared his throat. "How are you feeling?" He asked the stretching sharpshooter, who was still in the same suit he had started the day off in.

Tanner blinked a few times before answering. "At one point I felt I could conquer the world. Do anything." Vin said as he roughly rubbed his hand over his haggard features.

Standish kept his eyes on the highway, deftly merging in the traffic. "Ah, the rush," replied the southerner. Ezra noticed there was a pause and using his peripheral vision, saw that the sharpshooter looked shocked. "Please, Agent Tanner, I went to school with money and there is nothing money can't buy." Standish explained, thinking back to his boarding school days. The kids there had more money than they knew what to do with, sent by guilty parents who didn't spend time with their children. So Ezra experimented, thinking it would make him forget about feeling abandoned by his mother. It didn't work.

Vin adjusted the passenger seat of the Jaguar so that he was sitting up. "Wish I had known that." Tanner smirked. "Same thing in Purgatorio. Always someone willing to give you a hit and get you hooked."

Ezra nodded in understanding. This was so different from their usual conversations filled with playful bantering and insults. He was surprised the usually intuitive agent thought so highly of Ezra. He had been a kid once to after all, and a lonely one at that. Standish thought about Vin momentarily and it became clear. Ezra smiled, "You thought I was too smart to try drugs?"

Vin shrugged his shoulders "Guess so."

"Thanks, I think." Ezra chuckled at the audacity of the sharpshooter. Someday the undercover agent was going to have to point out to Vin that he too was intelligent. Tanner was a survivor of a tough childhood-surely that was proof of the sharpshooter's acumen.

Vin began tapping his fingers along the armrest. "Not as if we ever talked about if everyone lied on that questions on the federal agent questionnaire about illegal drug use."

"Oh, I'm sure our comrades have had their moments of stupidity." Off the top of his head he figured that Buck, Josiah and maybe Chris had experimented with drugs. Something about those three made him believe they were not innocents. Nathan and JD were only a distant maybe. "How would our fearless leader feel about these admissions?"

"Don't know." Vin sighed and then under his breath he added, "He'll do what's best."

Ezra momentarily took his attention from the road to see if he could read Tanner's reaction. "Very cryptic of you, Vin."

"I acted like an ass." The sharpshooter's voice grew louder in frustration. "I may not have a job in the morning." Vin turned his head and looked out the window.

"Damn," was all Ezra could think of replying. Standish wondered what treatment he would have received if he had been caught. Although being a co-conspirator surely would bring its own punishment. Ezra didn't want to dwell on it.

"Take that turnoff," Vin pointed to an exit on the right.

Ezra had agreed to take him to his friend's house. Tanner had said he would help purge the cocaine from his system. Standish had acquiesced only because he knew a hospital visit was impossible.

Tanner continued to give directions until they reached a subdivision in a cul-de-sac made up of similar split-level houses. "That's it," Vin pointed to a house at the end, set slightly further back.

Ezra pulled the Jaguar into the driveway. The occupants of the house must have seen him coming because before Standish exited the car he noticed a man by the screen door. He was an elderly man, but with the bearing of a man in his thirties with gray hair grazing his shoulders. He wore faded blue jeans, a plaid flannel shirt and a silver and leather belt around his waist. He waved at Vin.

"That's your friend Kojay, I presume." Ezra asked. He hadn't met any Native Americans in his travels and felt kind of nervous at meeting a Chief.

Vin nodded and led the way. When they reached the front door Kojay stretched his arm out and placed it on Tanner's shoulder. A minute passed before the Chief acknowledged Ezra's presence. Kojay finally gave Standish a nod of welcome.

He playfully slapped Vin's cheek and then opened the door to his daughter's house. "Come in."

* * *

_Looking for the moon_  
_In a lonely autumn sky_  
_-mountain castle lights,_  
_Santoka_

* * *

**CDC (Buck and JD's apartment)**  
**Denver, Colorado**

At the last minute Buck's date had cancelled, which was fine with Wilmington since the Avalanche were playing tonight.

"If ya can't have women, ya might as well have hockey." Buck mumbled out loud.

JD had a date with Casey and wouldn't be home until later. Buck was glad the young agent was going out with the college student, that way he would not spend time dwelling on Vin and Ezra's actions. Wilmington hoped the kid never figured out what had happened. The young agent worshipped all of them. In his eyes they could do no wrong. The reality was they were all just men, and they couldn't stay up on a pedestal forever.

Buck filled a metal pot with water and placed it on the gas stove. As the fire sputtered he reached up into the cabinets for a box of spaghetti and jar of Ragu. After shuffling past the macaroni and cheese and moving the margarita mix out of the way, Buck was able to find his dinner. Wilmington set the jar and box by the stove, and in the meantime turned on the television.

When he returned to the kitchen the water was at a rolling boil. As he placed the pasta into the water, the door to the apartment opened. JD came inside throwing his jacket on the couch.

"Cool, are you making dinner? Cause I'm starved." Dunne exclaimed as he went to the refrigerator and pulled out two beers. JD handed one to Buck.

Wilmington took a deep swig, and watched as Dunne grabbed two bowls and placed them on an empty corner of the kitchen table. "What happened to you and Casey?"

JD went to sit on the couch, remote control in hand. "She had an exam to study for, so I left."

The pasta was cooked, and Buck quickly drained it then added the jarred tomato sauce. A couple of tosses and he split the pasta between the two bowls. Grabbing 2 forks he brought them to the coffee table.

The game wouldn't be on for a few more minutes, so the roommates watched the end of a VIP repeat. Between forkfuls of pasta JD started talking.

"It was kinda weird today at work."

Buck wanted to groan. Wilmington figured that Chris would decide to keep the whole incident quiet, and that after the descision was made he could talk to the young agent. Of course, Buck thought, if Dunne never figured out what had happened in that warehouse then Wilmington could live without telling. Buck didn't want to shatter JD with the knowledge that one of his heroes was human. The ladies man grabbed the remote control and began to flick through the different stations. "Nah, not stranger than usual when you got a motley group like us."

Dunne picked up the empty plates and placed them in the sink, precariously perching the bowls on top of a frying pan, pot and assorted pans. "I don't know. Vin was acting all funny."

"That boy never tells a joke, how can you say he's funny?" Buck chuckled, waiting for the game to start and therefore divert JD's attention. "That doesn't mean I want to hear one of your jokes either."

Dunne tossed a sock at his friend, that Buck easily deflected. JD joined his friend and sat heavily on the couch, with his foot he pulled the coffee table forward so he could rest his feet on the piece of furniture. "Then Ezra and him disappeared."

"Probably following some leads." Buck was relieved when he saw the players skating out to the rink. "Game's on."

JD took another drink from his beer. "Guess so, I feel like I'm missing something."

Wilmington noticed how JD's eyes began to follow the hockey players standing in lines as the Star Spangled Banner played. The young agent said he loved that part when the national anthem was played, it gave him a warm feeling of patriotism.

Buck smiled inwardly at the young man's idealism. "Nope, not a thing, just the start of the game." Buck was thankful he had dodged that bullet, and decided that he deserved another beer. He would also have to mention to Ezra and Vin that they owed him, first of all, for covering their asses and secondly, for hiding this all from the kid.

Buck's head was in the refrigerator when he heard JD say, "I don't believe it."

"Damn!" Wilmington said roughly grabbing a beer. "They couldn't have already scored!" He hurried into the living room to find a pale JD. His feet firmly removed on the floor instead of relaxing on the coffee table.

"JD, what's wrong?" Wilmington crouched down worriedly, the kid looked as if he had seen a ghost.

Dunne pointed to the TV. "The sign, Buck, clear as day!"

Wilmington looked at the picture and watched as the teams skated around the rink. Then it made sense, he saw the DARE banner advertising, 'Just Say No To Drugs!' mounted to the boards. Buck put a hand to his forehead and sat down on the floor.

JD stood up and didn't even notice he had banged his knee against the coffee table. "The damn sign and I figured it out." Buck noticed his roommate mumbling to himself. "Should have known at the warehouse and then when he was acting all funny." Suddenly, Dunne sat back down and sighed. "Vin took cocaine, Buck."

Wilmington shook his head, inhaling deeply. Buck waited for his roommate to finish his stream of thoughts.

"He doesn't even like pain killers." JD stood up again and went to the phone. "We need to tell Chris."

Wilmington stood up and pulled the phone from his friend's hand. "He already knows."

JD mouthed the words to himself in puzzlement. Then his brown eyes grew wide and he backed away from his roommate. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Buck wanted to take a step closer to the young agent, but instead went to the forgotten beer he had left on the table. Wilmington kept his back turned as he said, "Cause Vin's going through enough without you badgering him." Though in all honesty, Buck's heart was screaming about how he wanted to spare his young friend the disillusionment of life.

"Going through enough?" JD exploded, yelling as he stood rooted into place. "He's a federal agent and he took drugs! That's wrong, Buck. He broke the law."

Buck cringed at the young agent's voice. Wilmington carefully placed down his drink. "Kid, we're not the DEA."

"I AM NOT A KID!" JD came forward grabbed Buck's shoulder roughly and forced him to turn around. "And we're law enforcement officials. We're supposed to have strong moral character."

Wilmington's anger began to rise at JD's assumptions. "Who told you that shit?" Buck's gaze did not waiver from Dunne's face. "And what's with 'this is wrong and that's wrong'?" Buck had to step away before he lost his control. He placed his hand against the painted walls. "You think he didn't have his reasons?" Wilmington regained his composure. "Maybe he thought about not getting killed or breaking cover." Buck turned around to face JD , who had gone silent. "Ever think about that?"

"I don't know." Dunne answered, deflating as his hostility began to disperse. Buck sympathized for his roommate. It was hard to learn that life was not always black or white. Sometimes it was just gray.

JD cleared his throat. Buck saw the lump that had formed in the young agent's neck. "He took drugs, Buck."

Wilmington took a step closer to his friend and peered underneath the bowed head. "You've never smoked pot? Never tried drugs?"

JD shook his head, and looked back down at his Reeboks.

Buck groaned. He sometimes forgot how young JD was, at his age Buck and Chris were enjoying wild days and nights, not hanging with ATF agents. "You can't be that naïve?"

JD snapped his head up and replied hotly. "There was never any time-school, taking care of my mom. I had no social life."

Wilmington reached out and placed a hand on his roommate's shoulder. "Jeez, JD, I never knew." Buck have his friend's shoulder a squeeze. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want you thinking less of Vin and the rest of us." Wilmington continued, when the young agent didn't reply. "Hell, you got to understand. . .we're not superheroes." Buck chuckled remembering a particular evening with Larabee. "Chris and me we got into our share of trouble."

Dunne shrugged Buck's hand of his shoulder. Wilmington closed his eyes for a moment, that one act had wounded him. Deep down inside it made him feel better that JD thought so highly of Buck and the rest of the team, and it was gone.

JD grabbed his jacket from the couch where he had tossed it earlier. "I'm numb as far as Vin's concerned." Dunne clutched the leather jacket tighter. "I'm not thinking at all about him." Finally, he looked at Buck and Wilmington could see the hurt in his roommate's brown eyes. "Buck, I'll be fine."

"JD, wait." Buck yelled after JD's retreating form. Instead Dunne softly closed the door. Wilmington sighed and with the remote control clicked off the television. He picked up the phone and waited for the other side to pick.

When he heard the familiar voice Buck ran a hand through his hair as he stated, "Chris, JD knows."

* * *

**5 Miriam Drive**  
**Livermore, Colorado**

"My son-in-law is away on business for a few days, and my daughter decided to join him." Kojay said as he led them through the house. They passed the kitchen and Vin's stomach growled. He was hungry. It was a side effect from the cocaine. But, the Chief did not stop instead he went through the back door in a screened in porch before descending down a set of stairs which led to the backyard. Vin felt Ezra pulling on his jacket.

"What is that?" Standish asked, pointing to a strange structure.

Vin followed Ezra's gaze to the fire pit, its flames crackling orange, and next to it was a sweat lodge. Tanner smiled, and went down the stairs explaining to Standish.

"Hell, Ez, it's a sweat lodge. Can't believe he built one here." Vin looked at the deceiving surroundings. When they drove up he noticed that each house was similar and had about an acre of land. There was a difference though in this house, the last in the cul-de-sac, its backyard bordered on conservation land. No wonder Kojay felt comfortable staying with his daughter.

The sharpshooter admired the sweat lodge too. It was about 10 feet in diameter, the sturdy structure was probably made of aspen that had been stripped and then bent to form a bow shape. Placed on top of that were blankets and finally a tarp being held down by rocks to protect it from the Colorado winds.

"Kojay must have started heating up the rocks when I called him." Vin watched as the older man shoveled in seven rocks into the opening of the lodge. Five buckets of water were near the pit in case the fire got out of hand.

"Lucky, you." Ezra said, crossing his arms, looking warily at Kojay who had gestured for them to join him. "Vin, if you don't mind I'll think I'll pass on the experience." Standish raised his voice so the Chief could hear him. "There's a sauna at my gym."

The older man assessed the well-dressed man. "It's up to you, but you also need to regain some balance."

Standish balanced on one foot and removed some grass clippings, which had become adhered to his expensive leather shoe. "Sir, I have an excellent sense of equilibrium."

Kojay nodded and began to pull off his shirt. "Feel free to use the house then and get yourself something to eat." The Chief began to fan himself with a sprig a sage to start the purification process.

Tanner sighed as he stepped forward, ready to strip down to his boxers before entering the lodge. He looked back at Standish's retreating form. "Hey, Ez, thanks." Vin said, thankful that the undercover agent had been a true friend today, attempting to cover up for Vin and then by taking him to Kojay.

Standish waved, acknowledging he had heard, and then muttered back. "There better be something other than squirrel or possum in the refrigerator."

Vin grinned. He had told Ezra some stories about living with The People and living off the land. He never guessed he had scared the undercover agent, but Standish did have a tendency to become nervous when he was out of his element, much like when Vin found himself in crowded places. Of course Ezra took a fit over a bag of Cheetos too. He was not accustomed to junk food because of his 'refined palate'.

Tanner stripped down to his boxers, leaving his suit in a pile by the lodge. He entered the structure and felt the soft fresh sage caressing his feet. Kojay had already sat down and was beginning to drip water on the hot rocks piled in an oval pit. The steam started to rise, whispering its way around the room until the moisture was thick in the air. Already, Vin felt the sweat beading on his upper lip, he licked it off unconsciously. The sharpshooter thought about the progression of his day from boredom, to a false high to hearing crickets clearly rustling in the leaves outside.

Tanner took a sip of water and listened to Kojay's chanting. Vin knew the Chief did it to bring spirituality to the sweat lodge, but Tanner never felt comfortable with chanting. It was a sense of letting go, and Vin always had to keep something back. Even with the cocaine the sharpshooter did not give into all the reckless impulses that were trying to seduce him. Tanner tried to willfully relax to the tunes Kojay was making.

Vin looked up, and wondered who had made a hole in the ceiling of the lodge. He could see an endless night. So caught up was he in the bewitching sight that Tanner failed to notice the trips Kojay made to get more heated rocks.

Tanner knew that in the end the sun would rise and the night would end. He kept that knowledge as an anchor so he wouldn't lose himself in the starry opulence. Yet, the stars twinkled and beckoned. He felt darkness around him, but if he reached out he could touch the effortless light. Then Vin felt a peaceful energy, a calmness and a sense of freedom.

Kojay smiled as he chanted, hearing Vin's voice join in.

When they finished hours later, Tanner slipped back on his pants and shirt without buttoning it. The clothes stuck to his sweaty body. Kojay made sure the fire was smothered and they went back to the house. The screen door to the back entry squeaked and Vin heard a muffled, "Humph."

Tanner smiled as he saw Ezra uncomfortably stretched out on lawn furniture. Vin bent down and whispered. "Ez, go back to sleep it's still dark outside."

In response Standish turned slightly with a, "Humn."

The undercover agent had been there all night keeping watch, making sure his friend was fine. Vin felt guilty at leaving him on the porch. "I think I should wake him up, he looks uncomfortable." Tanner said to Kojay.

The older man shrugged his shoulders. "Have him stay so the sun will greet him at dawn."

There were no blinds covering the windows so when the sun rose, it would shine directly on the undercover agent. "I don't think they're on speaking terms." Vin drawled. Ezra was sleeping like the dead, and Tanner knew he could sleep through anything. Standish would probably end up sleeping to noon. So Vin tossed an afghan over the prone form and went inside.

They would be staying for the night, and in the afternoon after a good night's sleep and a meal they would make their way back to Denver to see if a calmness had come to the Federal Building.


	3. Chapter 3

The Absence of Shadows  
_Part 3_

* * *

_It is no patience which you can bear patiently;_  
_Patience is to bear what is unbearable_  
_Sengai_

* * *

**Federal Building**  
**Denver, Colorado**

From the glass through Chris's office door he saw Ezra and Vin come into the bullpen. He saw the effect the two men had on their team members; suddenly a hush had come over the room. Buck and Josiah recovered quickly and went to greet the wayward agents. Nathan and JD sat at their desks, heads down, typing away. Larabee saw how the lines had been drawn.

Vin looked into the leader's office and gave Chris a nod before returning his attention back to Sanchez and Wilmington. Larabee scrutinized his friend. From all appearances he looked fine, but Chris knew the sharpshooter was in turmoil over wondering what was going to happen next.

The team leader pushed his chair back; one wheel squeaking slightly as the seat rolled over the carpet. Chris opened the door, and without looking at the other agents said, "Conference room, now." Larabee heard the scuffling movements behind him. As he passed Lorna, the secretary, he paused, "I don't want any interruptions."

The receptionist nodded.

The men filed in behind him, each taking their seats. Warily, Vin sat beside Chris. The team leader noticed how the sharpshooter rested his neck back, dealing with a multitude of emotions.

Nathan sat down and did not make eye contact with anyone. JD was staring intently at Vin, who tried not to notice. Buck reclined back on his chair with a relaxed demeanor that was in direct contradiction to Wilmington's tone last night when he explained how Dunne had left their apartment very upset.

"Damn Chris, I hate to see the kid this way. All eaten up over something he had nothing to do with." Buck had told him.

Larabee had just listened, knowing exactly how the young agent felt. Chris still was in disbelief about Vin and the cocaine.

"But the boy just didn't want to see that we take care of our own and it's not as if Vin's a drug addict." Wilmington then sighed, "Man, he has to toughen up or else he'll never make it in this business."

"Don't know Buck, JD has a point." Chris replied into the receiver after a long pause. "Tanner screwed up, big time." Every time Larabee closed his eyes he saw the sharpshooter and the cocaine and a pall of darkness. According to every law enforcement code what Vin had done was plainly wrong, and had ramifications for not only him, but for the team.

"Look Chris, I hope you think this all through." Buck said exasperated. "I'm going to look for the kid. I'll see you tomorrow." Then the line went dead.

Chris held the phone to his ear for a long time until eventually the pre-recorded operator message broke his reverie. As he replaced the phone he prayed that he would make the right decision. First thing he had to do was professional and then he hoped he could sort out his personal feelings.

Now he was in the conference room ready to pass judgement on his best friend and holding the fate of the team in the balance. They were giving him their full attention. Usually the first few minutes in the conference room were filed with playful banter, but now the room was filled with a sense of seriousness. "I don't like being stuck between a fuckin' rock and hard place. They all know, Vin." He gave the sharpshooter a quick glance, "and some of you have been more vocal on your positions than others." Chris's green eyes flickered in the direction of Josiah and then Buck. Larabee shook his head at the aggravation those two had caused him. On the other hand the two silent team members equally miffed him. Chris saw JD open his mouth than quickly close it and start fidgeting with his hands. Nathan kept his gaze averted.

"I know your intentions were not to make a fuckin' mess, but that's what happened." The leader was addressing Tanner, who moved restlessly in his chair.

Vin's blue eyes flared as he replied, "I was thinkin' about not blowin' our covers and getting a chance for bustin' a bigger deal."

Standish cleared his throat to get the room's attention. "I assure you, Agent Tanner. I am grateful."

Chris, standing at the head of the table, leaned over so his hands were resting on the wooden surface and he was close to the undercover agent. "Ezra, shut up." Standish smirked and crossed his arms. Larabee just shook his head at the irreverent agent.

Chris licked his lips before continuing. "I have 2 choices. I decide. I'm the one in charge of this team." Larabee narrowed his eyes. "You all got that? You all agree that it's my call?"

Buck looked around the table. Everyone was nodding. "Get on with it, Chris." Wilmington was curious about the leader's decision.

Larabee paused before continuing. "I can fire Vin." Tanner sat up straighter in his chair as if he waiting for a physical blow. "The higher ups then come down here and investigate everyone. We won't be able to take a piss without someone questioning how long it took us to go to the bathroom. Everything we've accomplished will be tarnished by innuendo."

Ezra shifted uneasily in his chair. Chris understood why, the man's career had been almost prematurely ended by rumors. Standish didn't want to have a cloud following him again.

Josiah rich timbre resonated through the silent room. "Don't expect Judge Travis will look too kindly on us either."

Larabee heard some under breath mumbling as the team thought of the fall out. Chris sat down in his chair, and then added, "On the other hand. . .maybe it never happened."

The leader heard the sharp intake of breath from one section of the table and sighs from others; they knew what he was saying. Chris closed his eyes as he finished. "In case word leaks out, like from Ikeda, then the shit will fall on me. None of you will be implicated. I'll take full responsibility-one of the perks of being the supervisor." He added wryly with a twisted smile.

Vin stood up. "Chris," The sharpshooter said to get the Chris's attention, "Larabee".

The leader ignored the pleas of the sharpshooter. Chris had considered the scenario and knew Vin would protest. If Ikeda decided to implicate Tanner then Larabee would say the sharpshooter had the permission of his supervisor. JD was standing up to protest too, but Buck pulled him back down. "My way or the team gets disbanded."

Josiah clasped his hands in front of him as if he was praying. Nathan kept on shaking his head. Buck and Ezra gave Chris a nod, and JD stared at Vin who had sat back down. Chris knew he was asking them to make a tough decision. When the team covered for each other it was over inconsequential matters like pranks and women. They all began to look at their fellow teammates, weighing their consciences, careers and friendships all on one scale. No one voiced a grievance or disagreed.

Chris relaxed in his chair and sighed, "That's the decision you all have to live with."

The men looked liked they were still wrestling, but everyone's attention got diverted to Lorna yelling out, "You can't go in there!"

* * *

_Myriads of things past_  
_Are brought to my mind -_  
_These cherry blossoms!_  
_Matsuo Basho_

* * *

Chris was up and out of his chair taking long strides to the conference room door. The rest of the team was still too muddleheaded to react. Vin brushed some hair that had fallen forward. The sharpshooter felt like shit. He was putting the career of his best friend on the line all with one foolish action. Tanner didn't want someone helping him, since he was the one who had done the deed. Vin was prepared to take any punishment Larabee seemed fitting to dole out even if that meant leaving a job he loved. The sharpshooter had decided that at Kojay's place.

Vin hadn't been prepared though for the reaction of his teammates. Josiah and Buck had treated him warmly. JD and Nathan, however, had given the sharpshooter a noticeably chilly reception. Chris had closed himself off to Vin. Tanner had no idea what the leader was thinking.

"Who the hell are you?" Larabee barked at the 2 men brusquely entering the confines of the private room.

"Agent Mike Sullivan," a short, older man with sparse hair raised an FBI badge. The agent pointed to the tall, silken-haired man with slanted almond shaped eyes, "and Agent James Kotsu."

"Hey, Tanner, heard you were part of this motley group." Vin jerked his head when he heard the familiar voice. The sharpshooter turned and was surprised to see a friendly face.

"Jimmy!" Vin stood up and stretched out his hand to Kotsu. "Why the hell are you here?" Tanner asked suspiciously, wondering if the FBI were here to arrest him for one line of cocaine.

James came forward with a smile and accepted the handshake. "Hear you guys have a large deal going on with the Yakuza." The FBI agent said, still keeping the joviality in his voice.

Tanner stopped smiling, and the rest of the team adopted a poker face, feigning any knowledge of the crime syndicate.

"Unfortunately, you have been misinformed." Ezra drawled, relaxing back into his leather chair nonchalantly.

Sullivan stepped away from a fuming Larabee, and sat down in a spare seat." Agent Jackson didn't realize that the information would get to me in the Asian Criminal Enterprises Department."

All eyes fell on Nathan who met their intense glare. Chris shook his head and went back to his place at the table. Vin had stayed standing. He never would have expected that the medic would contact the FBI, neither had the rest of the team. Neither had he ever expected to see James Kotsu again.

"Why is this so important?" Larabee growled at the 2 interlopers.

"Don't judge Agent Jackson too harshly," Kotsu gestured to a seat near Josiah. Vin nodded and went back to his spot. "The Yakuza are not a group your team can take on without some support and further information." Once ensconced Jimmy continued. " Let me give you some background. I've been undercover with the Yakuza in the Yamaguchi Gumi clan for 3 years. I started off as a sokaiya," James smiled as he explained the foreign terms. "A sokaiya blackmails companies by unearthing scandals involving management." The agent cleared his throat, and reached for the glass and pitcher of water in front of him. As he poured a drink, Vin could see a tattoo of a flower with a vine encircling Jimmy's right wrist. Tanner knew the tattoo symbolized that the federal agent was part of a gang.

Kotsu continued, "I came to the attention of Saizo Kishimoto, who controls six gangs in Kobe. Soon after I met Yoshinori Watanabe, the oyabun. . .um. . .the leader. . . I was initiated into the clan."

"The oyabun-kobun relationship," Josiah remarked.

James nodded, "You know about Japanese culture?"

Sanchez smiled, "Anthropologist's call it the parent-child relationship. The oyabun provides protection while the kobun reciprocates with loyalty and service."

"Damn, Josiah, I'm glad you know your shit." Buck said, trying to make sense out of the information. Vin saw that the rest of the team was nodding appreciatively at Sanchez, who blushed in embarrassment.

"Their structure is admired by major corporations." Sullivan commented from the other end of the table. "That's the problem though, they are recognized as legit businesses in Japan since they don't have anything like a RICO act."

Kotsu took a sip of water. "I am currently a fuku-honbucho, an assistant. I am part of the contingent making the amphetamines for guns deal with Ikeda. My boss Saizo and some other senior bosses will be here for the deal."

"Their paperwork is currently being held up by the American Embassy in Japan." Sullivan opened his briefcase, which he had placed under the table and slid a folder down to Larabee. "They have criminal records and therefore need to apply to the embassy for a visa."

Vin watched as Chris flipped through the folder. The team leader then passed it to Buck who was sitting on Larabee's left side. Vin noticed the slight.

Mike continued. "I'm James's liaison in the Embassy. We thought with some major Yakuza players on American soil, we might as well take the opportunity to do some damage to the largest clan."

"The largest?" JD gulped as he saw the pictures of the men they would be up against. Vin figured the photos must have been of some fierce-looking individuals.

"Travis has approved and assured us you'll co-operate." Sullivan stated and the team grumbled. They did not like being backed into a corner or ordered. Nonplussed by the reaction, Mike continued. "The Yakuza are expanding into the US. They operate through shell corporations and have channeled nearly 10 billion dollars into legitimate investments."

"You wouldn't perhaps have a list of those corporations so I can contact my stockbroker." Ezra grinned and winked at Vin. Tanner rolled his eyes. The undercover agent always pushed the envelope.

The FBI agent ignored the southerner. "They have a beachhead in Hawaii and are traveling up the coast to San Francisco, Portland and Seattle. They are also cultivating ties with other organized crime groups in the US. If you don't deal with them now, you'll be dealing with them later."

Jimmy cleared his throat, and gave a crooked grin. "It won't be bad to work with us. Have you gotten a phone call from Ikeda?"

"Not yet," Standish clasped his hands in front of him. "I hope the FBI is not wasting their time." The undercover agent added, goading the G-men.

"Cool it, Ezra." Chris said, as he gave the southerner a glare.

"Your team has an excellent reputation. I'm sure with your full co-operation we'll be able to get our men." Sullivan replied as he stood up, clutched his briefcase and headed to the door. "I'll be in touch."

With the briefing ending, the team gathered their papers and began to file out. Ezra gave Vin a nod, which Tanner returned. Buck gave the sharpshooter a grin. JD had gone ahead with Josiah asking him questions about Japan. Momentarily, Vin believed things would go back to normal, and the coke incident would be forgotten.

James stayed seated. "Agent Larabee," Chris looked up. "Can I speak to Vin privately for a moment?"

The leader glanced at Tanner and shrugged his shoulders, "Sure."

The sharpshooter kept silent as Chris exited the room. Larabee stopped at where Nathan was sitting, writing some notes. Larabee put a hand on Jackson's shoulder. "We need to talk for a minute."

* * *

Nathan took his time in writing out some notes. Vin was in the corner talking in low tones with his friend. Jackson took a minute to watch the sharpshooter during this unguarded moment. The medic hadn't made any contact with Tanner since he had arrived; in fact, Nathan had avoided looking in Vin's direction while Chris was informing the team of his decision.

Jackson was confused. On the one hand the team stayed intact, and they were good men. Nathan knew that, but he still felt conflicted. What Vin had done was plainly wrong, and the medic may have respected the man, but not the action. Did this all mean that Tanner was not deserving of Nathan's admiration? The medic had admired the sharpshooter not only for his abilities as an ATF agent, but also for his perseverance in surpassing his rough childhood. The cocaine incident gnawed at Nathan because he felt that Vin was taking a step back, reverting to the easier way to do things instead of the legal way. It was easier to fight than walk away, easier to kill the perp than deal with him in court.

In the same line of thought, Nathan wondered if he had taken the easier way out by calling his friend at the Bureau. Perhaps deep down inside Jackson wanted the source of the trouble, Ikeda and the Yakuza, to go away. Yet he was being called to task for his actions. The medic gathered up his papers. Chris wanted Nathan in his office, and Jackson did not want to keep the leader waiting.

Unlike the others on the team, Nathan knocked on Larabee's door and waited for the leader to say,

"Come in," before he entered. Jackson's father had told him some people were worthy of respect, and Nathan figured Chris was one of those men.

Nathan stayed standing and waited for Larabee to look up and acknowledge him. Finally after a pregnant pause Chris stopped writing. "Why did you call in the FBI?" The leader asked as he reclined back in his chair.

Jackson took a seat and explained. "I contacted a friend at the Bureau and asked him for some information about the Yakuza." The medic licked his lips as he noted his mouth becoming dry and gummy over the nervousness of facing Chris. As the words left his mouth Nate came to the realization Larabee was just as disappointed with Nathan as the leader was with Vin. When the medic had a problem with the case, he didn't talk to Chris. Instead he called in someone outside the team before he talked to Larabee.

Chris raised an eyebrow. "Some friend you got there," he scoffed.

"Chris, I felt we were over our heads." Steadily, Nathan met the leader's gaze. "He probably sensed it too and told his superiors." Jackson thought back to the meeting with Fred. The FBI agent hadn't been able to give him much information, just the name of some players and their reputation. Perdy must have felt that Nathan needed help and informed the Asian Criminal Enterprise section of the Bureau of a possible problem concerning the ATF and Team Seven.

"We may have been, but I would have liked to discover that myself." Chris came forward on his chair, crossed his arms and rested them against his desk. "Look, I'm tired of everyone going off half-cocked." Larabee sighed, and looked up to the ceiling at frustration.

Nathan nodded his head. He had learned his lesson, the medic would think twice before getting outside advice on a matter that was team related. Chris was genuinely hurt that Nate would _betray _ him. Jackson felt his stomach knot as he heard the disappointment in Larabee's voice. "I understand, Chris." Jackson gulped and looked away, not wanting to see displeasure in the blond-haired man's eyes.

Larabee shook his head. "I hope so." Chris stated as he pulled a pen out of the penholder on his desk. "I hope so," he repeated again, making Nathan feel guilty at his hasty actions.

"Are we done?" The medic asked, looking at the door. He wanted to leave the office and go back to his desk, to hide out for awhile. He wondered what the team's reaction would be. Nathan had noticed their surprise. They had never expected the medic to be the one to talk. Because of his skill at patching them up, the team held him in high esteem. What would they do now, especially in light of the fact that he wasn't being supportive towards Vin?

"Yeah," Chris interrupted Nathan's thoughts and dismissed him. Jackson left and quietly made his way to his desk, going around the others to avoid them.

Nate was at his desk about five minutes when Buck came over and sat on the edge of Jackson's desk. Wilmington picked up a paperweight and moved it back and forth between his hands. "So do you feel like a teenager who has just been on the tail end of a guilt trip?"

The medic nodded, and began to shuffle papers on his desk. Nathan hadn't expected that the mustached agent would come and talk to him.

Buck whistled and grinned. "I figured that's the tactic he'd take with you."

"Yeah, it worked." Nathan said, as he removed the paperweight from Buck's hand and set it back on the desk. "He pointed out that I was wrong." Jackson furrowed his brow in worry over the team's reaction to his lapse in judgment.

Wilmington gave the medic a slap on the back as he stood up. "Hell, Nate, no matter what you do, you're still the only one who can patch us up. We need ya around." Buck began to walk away and then turned and gave Nathan a wink before adding, "Just don't do it again and we're meeting at the saloon tonight."

Nathan grinned at how easily he had been forgiven. Jackson began to wonder if he could be that merciful to Vin.

* * *

Vin and Jimmy kept their conversation to pleasantries. Nathan was still in the room. Tanner gave the medic a glance every few moments until Jackson shuffled out. The sharpshooter knew that Jackson was unhappy with him. Hell, who really was thrilled over the whole situation? But for now Vin let himself forget and allowed himself to be distracted by his old friend.

"Damn, so this is what you've been up to." Jimmy kept his arms crossed and craned his neck around. They stood looking out the conference room windows admiring the Denver skyline.

Vin chuckled, thinking about the last time he had seen Kotsu. Tanner had decided to get on with life and not re-up with the Army. He and Jimmy had been teamed on many black op missions. Both were quiet and effective, and they had more in common-a loneliness at knowing they were all that remained of their families.

Jimmy had been orphaned at fifteen, when his parents were killed in an auto accident on their way to pick him up from a baseball game. He went to live in a foster home for three years and then joined the Army. Unlike Tanner, Kotsu had stayed with one family that he said hadn't treated him badly. Like Vin, he was haunted and took solace in being a loner with a tough armor. "You too. I thought you were military all the way." Vin had decided to move on as he grew up and became disenchanted with the military bureaucracy.

"Things change," Jimmy shrugged the shoulders of his dark suit. "Then the FBI recruited me, and I ended up in Japan." He added a smile at the end, which made Vin tilt his head, questioning his friend's sincerity.

Before Tanner could ask Kotsu to explain Buck entered the conference room.

"Hey, Vin, sorry to interrupt," Wilmington announced as he strode in. He joined the two friends at the window and nodded to Jimmy. Buck winked at the sharpshooter. "We're meeting at the saloon later."

Vin nodded and hitched his thumbs on the belt loop of his jeans. Tanner felt uneasy, he hadn't expected to be socializing with the boys so soon. The glint in Buck's eyes told the sharpshooter he had arranged the after work get together.

"You're welcomed to come." Wilmington added.

"Thanks," James gave a quick smile. "But, I have to get ready for Saizo." The FBI agent buttoned up the three buttons of his suit jacket.

Vin cleared his voice, "Understood." Tanner said as he put out his hand. James accepted the handshake, and with his left hand gave the sharpshooter a pat on the back.

"You seem to work with some good men." James chuckled as he and the other two men began to walk to the door.

"Don't say that too loud." Vin drawled, and gestured to Wilmington. "It's liable to go to Bucklin's head."

The mustached agent guffawed and punched Vin in the arm. "Hell, Junior's just jealous, cause of my reputation with the ladies."

"Did I tell you they were all full of shit." Tanner grinned.

James reached out and pressed the elevator call button, his tattoo flashed momentarily. "I'll be talking to you." The FBI agent said as he entered the vacant elevator.

Vin watched the elevator door close. The silver doors mirrored the coldness emanating from inside the office. Tanner felt Buck's warm hand squeeze his shoulder, reminding the sharpshooter he needed to get back to work.


	4. Chapter 4

The Absence of Shadows  
_Part 4_

* * *

_Now and again_  
_it turns to hail;_  
_the wind is strong._  
_Shiki_

* * *

**J Watson's (The Saloon)**  
**Denver, Colorado**

Ezra and Vin stepped into the saloon. They had gone to check on some snitches, but came up empty handed. They would have to wait for Ikeda's phone call and allow the FBI to take the lead. Ezra was glad that Buck suggested they meet at the saloon, since only a drink would help soften the blow- he was working with the Bureau again. It made the undercover agent's skin itch when he heard the acronym FBI, even the Keihls skincare products his personal shopper from Niemans had given him, couldn't help.

Team Seven's table was still vacant. Standish heard Tanner's audible sigh over the cacophony of the after work crowd gathered. Ezra couldn't blame the sharpshooter for his nervousness. They had both seen how the lines had been drawn, Buck, Josiah and himself supported Vin, while JD and Nathan were against. Chris, had the southerner stumped. Suddenly, Larabee had become a dictator. The noticeable turn in personality aggravated Ezra.

Standish cleared his throat, so he would not take the frustration out on Inez, the proprietress. She was busy fielding bar orders. Ezra and Vin waited by the bar until Inez gave them a nod.

"Brandy and a pitcher of beer," Standish ordered. "On Agent Wilmington's tab, darling." Buck had requested Ezra's presence and therefore etiquette dictated that he pay for the libations. Inez laughed. Standish winked. The undercover agent knew the Mexican woman liked to irritate the affable agent. Buck had mercilessly flirted with Inez. She had had a soft spot for the team, but did not want to get involved with them on a personal basis. Wilmington had been trying to change her mind. He said he relished the challenge.

Vin and Ezra sat at the table across from each other. The sharpshooter pulled a basket of free peanuts that languished on each table, he began to peel the peanuts. "I think the Jag's timing is off." Tanner drawled. "I thought I heard somethin.' I can take a look if you want."

An offending peanut shell skidded, landing in Ezra's lap. Standish picked up the dried legume and tossed it back, hitting Vin's chest. "Agent Tanner, I have seen you fix your vehicle with a hammer." Standish remembered the distinct clanging noise that rumbled through the garage at the Federal Building. Vin was hitting some part in the engine of the junk pile he referred to as a vehicle. Nonchalantly, he had closed the hood, put the toolbox in the backseat. He had given Ezra the two-fingered salute before starting the Jeep.

Vin shrugged his shoulders. "It worked, didn't it." The sharpshooter grinned as he reached for the pitcher of beer as Inez quietly deposited it on the table.

Ezra shook his head, bringing the brandy snifter to his nose to inhale the spicy scent. Tanner was using his subterfuge techniques so he could drive the Jag. When they were undercover Standish had to let Vin drive the car on occasion. But, the southerner would never let Tanner drive Ezra's pride and joy on a recreational basis. His mind flashed to Snowball and Twinkie wrappers littering the leather interior. "No, you can not drive my car."

"Can't blame a guy for tryin.'" Vin chuckled and Ezra joined in. They continued to laugh even though their bantering hadn't been that humorous. Standish knew it was a devil-may-care laugh, but one of relief of having survived. They continued to laugh until their eyes glistened and JD interrupted them.

The young agent was holding his helmet, which was glistening with fine drops of water. "Buck's gonna be awhile." Dunne announced and tucked the helmet under the table. JD remained standing, glancing at Vin and Ezra and deciding where to sit. Normally, there would be no hesitation. JD would have sat next to Tanner.

It was as if Vin suddenly had a case of leprosy though, Ezra mused, and Dunne took the seat next to Standish. The young man's wet leather coat brushed against the southerner's Zegna suit jacket, dampening the sleeve. The undercover agent brushed his arm, and looked at the sharpshooter. Vin shrugged at the slight.

"What detains our host?" Ezra asked, unbuttoning his suit jacket to try to make himself comfortable in the nerving silence.

Josiah answered, coming up behind Standish and moving into the vacant chair next to Vin without hesitation. "A woman of course, Brother." Sanchez pushed the peanut shells out of his way. "Anyone notice when Brother Wilmington is on the phone with a woman his voice suddenly goes down a few octaves and he starts whispering."

"You would think he would realize the total lack of privacy in the office." Standish snickered as he sipped his brandy, letting it warm the rawness of the evening from his bones.

Nathan filed in to the back area of the saloon, his hair glistening with the outdoor dampness. "Chris has to do some paperwork. He'll be here soon." Jackson said, as he pulled a chair from another table and brought it to the head of the table.

Ezra marveled at how the dampness not only clung to the medic's hair, but to his personality. Standish noticed Tanner nursing his beer, probably to prevent from choking on the depressing attitude of two of the team members.

Josiah poured himself a beer, stood and picked up the full glass. "I'm going to try my luck at the dart board while we wait."

Ezra watched the large agent leave and go to the other side of the bar. Standish curled his toes, encased in the soft leather loafer, giving him a sense of digging in. With Josiah away from the table, responsibility fell onto to the undercover agent to make sure everyone played nice.

Nathan closed his eyes and placed his elbows on the table, and brought his hand up so he could rest his head. "JD, being from Boston, do you remember Len Bias?" Jackson asked, ignoring the other two occupants of the table.

"Damn, Nathan, of course I do." JD nodded, wiping the beer foam that had adjoined itself to his upper lip. "The Celts would have been great if only—well, you know." Dunne said let his voice trail off quietly.

Standish kept glancing at the two men. He had no idea what they were discussing. It had something to do with basketball, but Ezra didn't see the connection until it was too late.

"Yeah, if only." Nathan replied, sitting up straighter and folding his arms in front of him. "I knew the Terps team doctor. He couldn't believe that Lenny, of all people." Jackson shook his head. "Stupid kid, did coke once and he died."

"Yeah, I remember." Dunne nodded, and gave a flickering glance to Vin.

Ezra swirled the brandy in its snifter and watched the flexibility of the amber liquid reflecting the stagnancy of the men before him with their one-dimensional line of thought. Standish had enough as he watched Vin fidget and sink lower in his rattan chair, figuring he deserved the admonishment. The undercover agent hadn't watched over all night, sitting in an uncomfortable lawn chair, while Tanner was in the sweat lodge only to see everything fall apart.

Ezra's voice was laced with a deadly edginess. "Gentlemen, I suggest you cease and desist." Standish set the glass on the table, and cupped his hands around the snifter.

Standish heard the chair across from him grate against the floor. "Forget about it, Ez." Vin said as he stood up. "I'm leaving." The sharpshooter added just as Buck and Chris had entered. Vin brushed against Larabee forcibly enough so he had to take a step back. Then the sharpshooter was gone.

"What happened?" Buck asked as he watched the back of Tanner go through the crowd towards the exit.

Ezra didn't have to look at Chris. The leader knew the undercover agent was talking to him. Standish continued to stare into the brandy. "You fed him to the wolves."

Larabee remained standing stiffly. "He should have expected this." Chris answered quietly.

Standish saw the amber colored liquid change to a fiery red. He stood up and snarled to his boss. "You sanctimonious bastard."

For a tense moment, Ezra held his breath and returned the icy glare Chris gave him. Suddenly, Larabee turned and went after Vin. Standish exhaled, and smiled as he sat down, glad his gamble had paid off. The undercover agent immediately wiped the smile from his visage. Buck was looking grimly at his roommate, and Ezra narrowed his eyes and bore down on the young agent.

"What?" JD said, trying to look puzzled and innocent at the same time. "Nate and I were talking about Len Bias." Dunne pointed at Jackson. "We were just trying to help."

Ezra brought the glass to his lips and savored the taste. "Deplorable way to show your concern." Standish commented over the rim of the snifter. "There must be some past imperfection of yours somewhere." The undercover agent asked the medic.

"Ezra," Nathan said, enunciating the southerner's name. "You don't want to go there." Jackson's chair scraped back, and he quietly left the table and joined Josiah by the dartboard.

"Due to your past medical assistance, I will allow some leniency." Ezra mumbled under his breath. He knew Nathan would come around eventually. Jackson liked to save lives not ruin them. Standish closed his eyes and turned his attention to his next target. "I am disappointed in you JD."

"Me? What did I do?" Dunne said, as he popped another peanut in his mouth.

Ezra stretched out, and placed his arms behind his neck. "You are always trying to prove your manhood, yet you have failed miserably."

JD stopped chewing and swallowed. "You take that back, Ezra."

Standish shook his head, knowing he was making the young agent uncomfortable. "Ahh, acknowledging the truth is always difficult."

JD gripped the edge of the table. "Buck, are you going to help me out?" He asked in a strained voice.

"Nope," he crossed his arms and signaled for another pitcher. "Truth is, Vin's a good man. Truth is, your acting like an ass. You know what?" Wilmington waited to finish his comment as Inez came by and took away the empty beer container and replaced it. Buck gave the bar owner a wink as she left. Wilmington tossed a peanut at his roommate to get his attention again. "He's your friend and if the case was reversed he'd stand by you."

Dunne let go of the table, and began to concentrate on the condensation ring left behind by his glass. Ezra wasn't satisfied though at the young agent's change of behavior. JD was partially responsible for making Vin suffer and although the sharpshooter would never exact revenge, it was not beneath Standish to.

"Have you forgotten Annie?" Ezra said softly, bringing up the name of the woman JD had accidentally killed. "If I recollect correctly, Vin stood by you, Agent Dunne."

Dunne snapped his head up. "Don't bring that up." JD said softly.

Buck nodded, agreeing with Standish. "Vin didn't throw it in your face."

Ezra finished off the remaining brandy. "I still recall the sensational headlines-'ATF Agent Shoots Innocent Bystander.'"

Wilmington sighed; he was putting the mug to his lips and placed it back down. "They did want your head on a platter." Wilmington brought the glass back up again. "Hell, you had to hide out at Vin's place for awhile."

JD looked up to the ceiling his eyes following the rotation of the fan above. He blinked rapidly. In the meantime Buck and Ezra gave each other a nod knowing they had finally made the young agent understand.

Dunne cleared his throat. "Geez, you guys don't pull any punches."

Buck had taken the seat Nathan had vacated. Wilmington reached out and gave the young agent a pat on the back. "Damn, JD, you've had so many concussions that it takes you a little longer to figure it out."

"Luckily, Agent Wilmington and myself have proven to be excellent examples and teachers and we are able to show you the error of your ways." Ezra sagely said, feeling proud that he was able to steer JD to the correct conclusion. Standish could only hope that Chris and Nathan's stubbornness was short lived. He raised his hand to order another brandy, and thought that it was a nice to delusion to believe.

* * *

Nathan watched as Josiah carefully weighed the red metal dart in his hand. Jackson felt calmer just being in Sanchez's presence. The large man was contemplative, concerning all his actions, whether it was making a cup of coffee, repairing a roof or bringing down a criminal. On occasion, Nathan found himself emulating the older man, which is why they were teamed up so much, especially during stakeouts. The medic wanted to attain a level of peacefulness after the turmoil of his younger days of growing up bearing a yoke of discrimination. Josiah helped raise the bar of humanity that the medic wanted to achieve.

The large man ran his hand down the dart before firmly holding it with his index finger and thumb. With a flick of Sanchez's wrist he let the mini-projectile free, with a soft thud it entered into the red section of the corkboard. Josiah took a sip of his beer before he went forward and pulled the three darts out.

"You want to give it a try?" Sanchez asked Jackson, who shook his head. "It quiets the mind."

Nathan grinned. "I don't think anything can stop what's going through my head." The medic rested against the edge of a vacant pool table. "You know I was only trying to point out some health hazards." Jackson gestured with his head back to the team's table.

"That's mighty admirable of you." Sanchez commented as he placed his feet against the line drawn on the saloon's floor.

Nathan shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe." He looked down at the older agent's feet so firmly planted on the ground, so secure that supporting the sharpshooter was the correct decision.

"You don't sound sure, thought you were all hellfire against Vin." Josiah said as he threw the dart.

The medic chuckled. "Hellfire is your area, son of a preacher." The boys were constantly ribbing the large agent about his father. It didn't help that JD had downloaded of Son of a Preacher Man onto Josiah's computer.

Sanchez laughed too. "Just like you save lives."

Nathan stopped laughing and snorted, "I'm an EMT, Josiah, not a doctor." Back in college he was just able to get by monetarily. He couldn't afford med school, hell; he was still paying his undergrad loans off. Nathan had decided to go to the army instead, that decision had eventually led him to law enforcement.

Sanchez got into a secure stance in preparation to toss the next dart. "Doesn't matter. You like to save souls and bodies." Josiah gave a peripheral glance to the target. "All the times you get after Ezra, trying to show him the error of his greedy ways."

"I only want him to be better. . ." Just like Nathan tried everyday to be a better person. He reflected back on his incident with amphetamines. If he had been a stronger person then, he would have never resorted to drugs.

"We're the best we can be, Nathan." Sanchez tossed the dart, and turned to face Jackson. "We make mistakes. We make decisions. We live with everything 'cause we know we did our best and that's all anybody can ask."

The medic licked his lips and cleared his voice. In a low, monotone voice he replied, "So you're saying I've been a jerk concerning Vin?" Nathan knitted his soft brows together. He hated to fail, and he had failed to be a friend and teammate.

"If that's what you think fits you best." Josiah threw the last dart haphazardly. "Let's see if we can help our brothers with that pitcher of beer."

They headed back to the table. Nathan followed behind Josiah, allowing the older man to lead while he did some thinking. He had to apologize to Vin. But an 'I'm sorry' just didn't seem to be right.

* * *

Chris pushed people out of his way. He exited the saloon, the bell over the door clanged wildly. Larabee looked right, then left. The streetlight cast a dark shadow, barely distinguishable against the black, glittery pavement slick with a misting rain. Vin was walking towards his Jeep, head bent down. The tall shadow separated them. Chris called out, "Wait!"

Tanner stopped, but did not turn around, allowing Larabee time to catch up. Chris jogged towards him. The leader could see the sharp angle of the sharpshooter's cheekbones, the light highlighted one part of his face, immersing the other side in darkness. Vin's eyes were downcast.

There was a silence between them that stretched into a few minutes. Chris could feel his hair becoming damp, and the coldness seeping in through his black windbreaker. As the time elapsed, Chris became angry until he finally had to break the unnerving quietness that usually was comfortable between the two. "I thought you had a fucking better head on your shoulders." Larabee said, talking to Tanner's back.

Slowly, Vin turned around. He straightened his hunched shoulders, and lifted his chin. "What the hell did you want me to do?" The sharpshooter growled. "Let Ezra take that shit?" Tanner did not wait for a response. "Or maybe I shoulda said, 'No, I ain't doing it,' and blown our cover. At least I wouldn't broken no laws. Maybe I'd be dead or Ezra, though." Vin turned as if to walk away.

Larabee placed a restricting hand on Vin's shoulder, so that he couldn't leave. "How the hell do I justify letting one of my agents get away with snorting coke?"

Roughly, Tanner swatted the hand off. "One fuckin' line, Chris! What would you have done?"

Even though it was raw outside, Larabee could feel the heat growing in the conversation. "I don't know." Chris replied, letting his hand fall to his side. He did not want to make any motion towards Vin. How could the leader explain that it was different for him. Chris was older and had already lived one life with a wife and child, he knew what it felt like to be complete. The others on the team had not had that opportunity. Larabee could take any risk. He wanted the others to survive, so that they could grow old and have a family one day. Larabee didn't know if he would ever be as happy as he once was with Sarah. Yet, he could die tomorrow and it would be fine cause he, during one part of his life, had everything. Instead of explaining, Chris shook his head. He wasn't willing to share this facet of his life with anyone.

"Well, I don't need another fuckin' guilt trip! I gotta enough shit to carry around." Vin pointed his finger and forcibly poked it into Larabee's shoulder. He then pulled his hand away and wrapped his arms around his torso. With an angered filled voice Tanner continued. "I didn't ask you to risk your career. I was willing to go down for what I did. You had to fuck it all up and play the damn hero-and take care of me."

Absently, Chris rubbed the spot on his chest where Vin had struck him. It didn't hurt, but it made him feel as though Tanner had taken advantage of him. All the stuff-risking his career, that Chris had been put through only to be shit on. A little fucking gratitude would be nice for a change. Larabee lashed out, giving the sharpshooter a shove. "I wouldn't have to take care of you if you weren't so fuckin' reckless!"

Vin faltered backwards, placing his right leg back so that he wouldn't fall. Tanner lunged forward, grabbing a fist full of Chris's windbreaker. The sharpshooter brought his fist back, and then blinked.

Chris saw a moment of startling clarity enter Vin's eyes. Tanner let his hand drop to his side, and uncurled his fingers methodically from Larabee's jacket. The sharpshooter took a step away and turned his back. Chris could see the fog escaping from Vin's mouth as he took deep, ragged breaths.

Larabee closed his eyes in disbelief at how close they had come to violence. Over the echoing sounds of the city he heard the dejected whisper. "Do you want me to quit?" Vin turned and faced Chris, droplets of fine rain traced the sharpshooter's face. "It'll make it easier on the both of us."

The dark clad leader savagely wiped the rain from his face, feeling aggravated with his lack of control. "NO GODDAMMIT!" Chris bent his head low and ran a hand through his hair until he let it rest on his neck. "I wish this had never happened." He sighed, deflating all the tension in his body.

Larabee didn't know how long they stood in silence. Time was measured by a flickering streetlight that didn't have the strength to stay lit. Finally, Vin nodded, as if he understood the machinations of the world. "I can't go back and undo it, Chris. I don't know if I would undo it if I could." That said, Tanner shrugged his shoulders and began to walk off into the night.

The light above decided to hold steady, illuminating that Chris was about to let one of his team, one of his friends walk away. It was one thing to have someone die on you and it was something else entirely to push a person away. Larabee felt it was a great temptation- it would save him from emotions, much like his black clothing did on the outside. His deliberate wearing of black was to tell others he did not want to get involved; all the color had been sucked out of his world. "My gut knows you're right." Chris said, raising his voice slightly so it would carry over the 10 feet of distance. "That's why I'm standing by you." Larabee noticed that Tanner had stopped. "Just give a chance for my gut to tell my head."

The shadowed form before him didn't turn, but Larabee noted the slight tilt of the head - as if aiming an ear in the direction of the roundabout apology. A second or two passed, then, slowly Vin let himself face the other man. With a deliberate casualness, Tanner made his way back to Chris. But there was no hesitation as he offered an outstretched arm to his friend. "Glad you came to your senses."

Chris clasped the forearm, and noticed the clouds moving against the inky night sky. Just like the clouds, he thought, the leader needed to move past this incident. As the dark puffy, streaks drifted over, a sliver of the haunting moon could be seen.

"Mule-headed cowboy," Vin muttered with a grin.

Larabee smirked in return. Chris was actually more like the moon going through its phases, until one day he too would be whole and solid. This man and the five others inside the saloon were a planetary force to be reckoned with and they wanted him to breathe, live and feel.

Chris could feel Tanner's grip, the cold and the rain. He had let go of the numbness that had been the leader's defense mechanism since this whole mess with Vin had started. He was able to have some feeling seep into his body. The team was giving him time to return to the land of the living, and was willing to put up with his over-protectiveness. They just asked Chris to stand by them. He had pushed Vin's patience to almost the breaking point. Chris shook his head at his own thoughts, let go of the handshake and gave Tanner a pat on the back to try to tell the man wordlessly, 'Thanks for putting up with my shit.' The leader then pointed to the saloon.

Tanner shook his head and stuffed his hands into his jean pockets. "Damn Chris, the kid's lookin' at me like I kilt his dog and Nathan is waiting for me to drop dead." Vin roughly pushed his wet hair away from his face then returned his hand back to the pocket. "If I'm just going back in there so's they can dump more shit on me, thanks, but I'll pass. You'll have my resignation in the morning."

Chris turned and started to walk to J. Watson's. He called back, "Tanner if you don't follow me inside I will fire you." Larabee smiled as he heard the soft footsteps hesitantly behind him.

Chris stepped in front of the team's table. They were sitting there, uncommunicative and sullen. JD was slouched down in his chair and sat up when he noticed the leader's presence. Ezra glanced at Chris and then turned slightly to give a nod to Vin, who was a few steps away. Buck gave his friend a smirk, Josiah drank his beer and Nathan toyed with a straw wrapper.

"You all made a descision this morning." Larabee announced referring to earlier in the day. He had made it so easy for them. All they needed to do was accept and keep quiet. "Did I fucking twist your arm?" The team did not respond, which riled Chris; they were reflecting exactly how he had been earlier. Larabee knew that he had no problem with Buck, Josiah and Ezra, but they had to hear this as well as Nathan and JD. Chris slammed his hand on the table causing the glasses to jump. "You all fucking think I wouldn't do the same for you."

"No, Chris, we don't think that," JD sputtered.

Larabee pretended not to hear him because he just wanted to finish without interruption. "Hell, I've been shot saving each one of your asses." Chris sat down in the seat at the head of the table and poured himself a beer, allowing time for the others to accept the truth.

Buck chuckled, breaking the seriousness Larabee had tried to project. "Chris, you only got grazed taking that bullet for me."

At first there was a gruff laugh from Josiah, which spread to Ezra, then Nathan and finally to JD. Buck stood up in the midst of the joviality and gestured to Tanner still waiting on the outskirts.

"Vin you gonna sit down? Otherwise, Inez will put you on her shitlist for blocking traffic." Wilmington gestured to the long-legged waitress holding a tray of nachos, trying to figure a way to deliver the food to the table and get around Vin, who seemed to be fixed in place.

The sharpshooter shrugged and came over, taking the seat by Buck. The waitress winked at Tanner causing him to blush and look away. She also replaced the peanuts.

"Actually, I do believe that you have that position shored up, Buck." Ezra drawled, relaxing back into his chair. "I'm willing to wager on it."

The southerner's comment brought another round of laughter, and Buck decided to retaliate by tossing peanuts at Standish. Josiah, caught in the middle of the attack, covered his drink with a large hand and shook his head.

"Don't know why I put up with all of you." Chris said, catching Sanchez's eye.

"Seems like lapses in judgement have been the theme lately wouldn't you say?" Ezra said, directing his green eyes at Larabee, while deflecting the salty ammunition. Chris gave Standish a withering stare, which the undercover agent waved off. Larabee hated when the smug undercover agent was right-God knew he would never live it down.

It was Nathan's reaction of shifting uncomfortably in his chair that got Chris's attention. Jackson was never one to fidget. Larabee hadn't forgotten about the medic's lapse concerning the FBI. But, Larabee wasn't going to let it eat at him, not with the upcoming case. Truthfully though, a part of Chris felt good to know that Jackson was still feeling guilty. Just like Vin, he would never be that foolish again, or at least not in the near future.

Larabee looked at the two men. Vin was still uncomfortable, although Buck kept nudging him to join in the peanut fight. Nathan was thoughtful and sipped at his beer. Chris knew they would settle things themselves at the right time. Larabee didn't miss how JD was already extending an olive branch.

Dunne seemed to be contemplating, then he looked up and caught Tanner's eye. "Your friend James seems like a good guy," the young agent said sheepishly.

The sharpshooter gave a quick nod and spoke to JD, and soon it was like a rift had never existed between the two. Chris took a long draw on his beer and watch the team's antics like an admiring observer. Damn, he was watching too many beer commercials.

* * *

Vin had woken up at his usual time to greet the sun as it rose. He was planning on working out at home before taking a shower, but today he was feeling like he wanted to have some space, instead of using the heavy bag in his cramped apartment.

After a rough beginning last night, Tanner had eventually felt everything was back to normal with the boys. Except with Nathan, thought the sharpshooter as he maneuvered through the desolate streets of Denver with his Jeep and duffel bag in the seat beside him. Vin would have to fix it with Nate, somehow. As Tanner drummed the steering wheel, he figured he'd start eating healthy foods like fruit and granola, in front of the medic. The convenience store would miss him and his daily purchase of Yodels, Snowballs and Twinkies. It would be a sacrifice, but Jackson was worth it. As Vin pulled into the garage and made his way to the Federal Building's gym in the basement he smiled as he remembered what Ezra had said about Nathan when the undercover agent had first joined after a stressful day and a few drinks.

"Agent Jackson worries that I am Judas amongst the Apostles." Ezra had waived his hand. "Excuse me, I forgot that Josiah is the only person allowed religious comparisons." Standish then continued in a lower voice so only Vin could here. "There are men who can accept a man, then there are others who see a man and what he should be." Ezra's southern drawl had become thick as he finished. "I thank Agent Jackson for his concern, however I shall never live up to his expectations."

"Me neither, Ez." Vin said, out loud to the empty gym as he turned on the lights; the fluorescent bulbs sputtered until they found their groove. Groove, Vin thought, the coke fiasco had put him out of sync with Jackson.

"Ahh, it's gonna be rough for a while, Tanner but you'll manage." Vin sighed as he pulled off his cowboy boots and socks, placing them against the wall. No one would be here for awhile. If he was lucky, Chris would stop by, and they would do a few rounds in the ring before starting the day.

Tanner took his sparring gloves out of his gym bag. He had slept in sweats and a t-shirt and therefore didn't bother changing. In addition he preferred working out in his bare feet like he did when he practiced his katas. It was relaxing to feel the connection with the ground. It kept him centered and focussed. Before Vin had left his apartment he packed a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt to slip into before he headed up to the eleventh floor.

Tanner began to circle the speed bag, concentrating on keeping the momentum going in a repetitive manner. First, he kept his right jab up and then worked on his left, switching in the second it took for the little red bag to jump back before it was propelled forward.

Tanner gave the bag one strong hit, and stood there watching the bag jostle back and forth as he caught his breath. The sharpshooter sensed someone in the room with him. "Hey, cow . . ." Vin said as he turned, startled to find James standing there watching him. "Hey Jimmy, what brings you here?" Tanner asked as walked over to the heavy bag to continue his workout.

"Couldn't sleep." Kotsu drew himself away from the shadow that the door was providing. "Probably cause of the jetlag." James unbuttoned his gray suit jacket. "I remembered you were an early bird, and thought we'd have some time to talk over a cup of coffee." The FBI agent gestured with a nod to the ring. "But, on the other hand, want to spar?"

Vin chuckled. Tanner had become accustomed to sparring with Chris and some other ATF agents. He hadn't sparred with Jimmy in years, and it had always been a challenge then, the sharpshooter wondered if he was prepared. "Wouldn't wanta get your clothes all wrinkled."

James had already slipped out of his jacket and was tugging off his shirt. "Tanner, I know I'm better than you." Came the muffled replied until the shirt was pulled off. "I figured you may want a few pointers." James smiled as he kicked off his shoes.

Tanner walked to the ring and ducked under the ropes. "Hell, Jimmy, you're just askin' for a beatin'." Vin taunted, as he began shifting his weight back and forth to loosen up.

Kotsu, clad in his suit pants, grabbed a set of gloves and joined Tanner in the ring. He began to shake his arms and legs out to warm up in preparation.

In the beginning they threw a few front kicks and straight punches to set the distance-how far they would have to punch or kick to hit their opponent. Both of them had a slight sheen to their faces as they began to exert energy. Vin decided to go on the offensive and sweep Jimmy's leg. Tanner must have telegraphed his intentions, because Kotsu picked up his leg and Vin landed awkwardly forward.

Jimmy took the opportunity of Vin being off-balance and delivered a spinning crescent kick to Tanner's torso. He followed it up with a jumping, front kick off the front foot that propelled Vin into the ropes. The sharpshooter shoved the FBI agent away. Kotsu nodded and stepped back.

'Stupid, stupid, stupid.' Vin said to himself. He shouldn't have been so foolish to try the sweep. Tanner heard someone clearing his throat behind him. The sharpshooter turned to see Chris shaking his head. Tanner nodded and hit his head with his glove hand to show he was trying to knock some sense into himself. Vin gave the ATF leader a questioning look, which Larabee understood. Chris pointed to the video camera.

"Great, security's sending an audience." Tanner growled as he stepped away from the red cable he had been resting against.

"Damn," Kotsu said. Vin thought the FBI agent was agreeing with him. Tanner hated to be crowded. Jimmy winked, "Sorry, you're gonna lose in front of all your friends."

The sharpshooter grinned at his friend's cockiness. The match wasn't over yet. "Come on," Vin gestured with his hands for Kotsu to come forward. Tanner could at least be thankful that Ezra wasn't an early riser and wouldn't be at the gym taking bets. Nothing was worse than having a friend bet against you.

Vin started with a basic combination of inside kick, to round house kick to back fist that pushed Jimmy back into the center of the ring. Kotsu followed up with a ridge hand and a few upper cuts. Tanner kept his elbows in to protect his torso, and was able to duck and deflect some of the blows while returning with some shots. The sharpshooter, though, had a sinking sense that Jimmy was holding back.

Every once in awhile his eye caught another familiar face; he noticed that Josiah, Nathan, Buck and JD had filed in by Larabee, watching by the doorway.

"Go Vin!" The sharpshooter heard JD yell out, which buoyed Tanner's tenacity to find Kotsu's weak points. However, Dunne himself had provided the opening the sharpshooter needed. Jimmy seemed distracted by the young agent, and slightly dropped his hands away from his head. Tanner took the chance, leaned back and sent a wheel kick to the side of Jimmy's head. Kotsu staggered sideways, and Vin decided to try the sweep again, this time hooking Jimmy's front foot out from under him, which caused him to fall back.

Tanner couldn't hide the grin that broke his face when he heard Buck yell out, "Woohoo!"  
Jimmy was staying down; Vin went near his friend, about to offer a hand up, when he felt Kotsu's foot go into his stomach. Suddenly, Tanner was tossed over Jimmy's head.

Vin tucked in, so he ended up in a somersault, but he still landed flat on his back, knocking the wind out of him. From the distance, he saw Chris's brows knit in anger. Tanner lifted a hand to say he was okay. Vin had agreed to the spar Kotsu, and he had forgotten the first rule, a fight is never finished until someone has given up, and Jimmy had not cried, 'uncle.'

The sharpshooter felt one of his arms being lifted so that his chest came off the mat. Jimmy put one foot under Vin's chest and his left leg over the ATF agent's neck. Tanner felt the sharp pain in his right arm as Kotsu gained leverage and began to lean back so that Vin's arm was hyper-extended.

Tanner began to think of countermoves, and tried to shift his hips and legs to force Jimmy off, but every time he tried, the leg around his neck squeezed tighter causing him to see spots. Damn, this was a good hold. Vin tried not to think of the burning sensation in his arm. He tried to work with his other hand and wind it under the FBI agent's restraining leg.

Through a dimming haze Vin heard Nathan yell out. "That's enough," Jackson slapped the floor of the ring to get everyone's attention. "Stubborn fool's not going to tap out."

With a grunt Jimmy released the hold and gave Tanner a tap on the shoulder. "Good job," the FBI agent said as he cleared the way for Jackson to kneel beside Vin.

"I'm fine, Nathan." The sharpshooter said as he got up slowly and rotated his arm. He might have had Kotsu if Vin had more time, Tanner thought wryly. Vin continued to stretch the soreness out of his arm. The longhaired agent began to notice that the medic was not his usual doctoring self. "You probably think I needed the wind knocked out of me." Tanner whispered so only Nathan could hear. Vin figured now was as good a time as any to make peace with Jackson.

"You probably wish that it was me you were hitting out there." Nathan sighed, looking at the mat, instead of facing the sharpshooter.

"Yeah, you know that part when I had him on the ropes," Vin smirked. "I was thinking of you." Tanner put his hand out so that Nathan could assist him.

Jackson gripped Vin's arm, and pulled him up. Tanner swayed slightly, and Nate put a steadying hand on the sharpshooter's elbow. "You saved my life-and I owe you for that."

"Hell, you've been there for me too many times to count." Vin put his hand on Jackson's elbow, not because of the lightheadedness, but out of a symbol of friendship.

Nathan nodded and smiled, happy his apology was accepted. The medic gave Vin a pat on the back as they joined the rest of the team. Tanner was glad at the warmness behind the touch and that he didn't have to resort to sacrificing his junk food habit.

James was sitting on a bench. Josiah had brought him a towel, which Kotsu hung around his neck as he slipped on his shoes and socks.

"He okay?" Chris asked, trying to judge if the sharpshooter was showing any signs of the abuse he had taken in the ring.

"I'm fine." Vin gave Jimmy a nod to show there were no hard feelings. Kotsu put his hand up to give Tanner a high-five.

The FBI agent pulled his shirt on. "I thought you would have all learned by now that Tanner is tougher than he looks." Kotsu brushed his thick black hair away from his face.

The team laughed but, not a hearty chuckle. It was more like a warning, which was music to Vin's ears. He was part of the fold, and they would circle their wagons around him to protect him. In that moment he felt that the cocaine incident was behind him. It would never come to light.

Tanner tossed Buck one of his gloves as he began to peel them off so that Wilmington would place them in his bag. "Actually we kinda think he's made of Teflon, the way he deflects those bullets." The mustached agent began to play around with the glove and mock hit JD in the nose. Dunne threw some fake jabs at Wilmington's gut.

"Deflects?" Nathan threw his hands up, exasperated. "His medical history is a book."

Buck dropped the glove in the duffel bag and caught the other glove that was tossed at him. "Aww, Nate, can Vin help it if he has injury magnetism?"

This time the laughing was sincere. Tanner didn't mind it was at his expense. He would gladly take any of those bullets again if it meant he saved the lives of one of his friends.

Ezra cleared his throat and leaned against the door jam, waiting for the others to calm down. "I heard I missed a fine gambling opportunity."  
"Vin and James," JD explained pointing to the two former combatants. "James ended up winning," Dunne added solemnly, showing loyalty to his friend.

Tanner gave the young agent a nod. JD returned with a wide grin. Vin felt a prickle up his spine and noted that Jimmy was looking intensely at Dunne. No one had picked up on it except for Vin and once Kotsu noticed that the sharpshooter was staring at him, he stopped and slid on his suit jacket.

"Why must you ruin my day straight off?" Standish dusted the fictitious lint from his suit sleeve. "Remember Vin, I am your promoter."

"Since when?" Chris asked, crooking his eyebrow at the southerner. Vin wanted to laugh at Larabee's playful suspiciousness.

Standish fidgeted with his shirt cuff, which had nothing to do with his fastidiousness. The undercover agent would move restlessly when he was reminded that he had gained a reputation of taking advantage of others. Most people, like Vin, knew it was a false rep.

Tanner was about to make some joking comment when Jimmy interrupted. "Ikeda call?" Kotsu asked, as he stood up, neatly dressed.

"Yes, he wants to arrange a preliminary meeting." Ezra replied full of seriousness.

* * *

_Strongmen don't die on the tatami_  
_anonymous_

* * *

**Penthouse Suite**  
**Loew's Giorgio Hotel**  
**Denver, CO**

James relaxed for a moment on the white sofa in the penthouse of the Loew's Giorgio Hotel. It was only the best for the Yamaguchi Gumi clan, which had taken over the luxurious top floor of the prestigious hotel. His boss, Saizo Kishimoto, would be arriving in Denver shortly with some other senior bosses and some soldiers. James would return to his position as fuku-honbucho, an assistant.

His morning at the Federal building had been bittersweet. It would be the last time he would freely enter the ATF offices and be recognized as an agent working for the United States government. James had been undercover so long he started to forget he was an American citizen. He had been undercover three years and his thoughts were no longer in English, instead he heard Japanese. In fact, like some Japanese, he had the attitude that they were superior to U.S.

His liaison, Agent Mike Sullivan, would be irate if he heard that James did not consider himself a true blue American. Kotsu stretched his medium sized frame. On the other hand Jimmy did not care about Mike Sullivan. The fellow FBI agent assumed that they were friends. Sullivan didn't understand they were co-workers, Mike would never know the shit James was going through.

Thinking of friendship made Kotsu have to quell the feelings of jealously, which had grown when he had seen Vin Tanner interact with Team Seven. James had figured Vin was dead by now. The FBI agent had been surprised to learn he was with the ATF and that the man didn't seem as screwed up as he used to be. Vin had always been a loner, a quiet one. Over the course of a few assignments together Tanner believed he had found a kindred spirit in Kotsu. The snippets of the ATF agent's life that Jimmy knew about would have sent many men to commit suicide sooner rather than later. But Tanner proved that point that looks could be deceiving.

James reached for the chilled sake. Kotsu felt that being alone made him stronger man-he had only his mission to concentrate on. He had no one left to think about. Not that strong though, he had been startled by the young ATF agent JD. James felt the chill enter his hand from the cold carafe he was still holding. He shook his head and began to pour himself a liberal amount of the clear liquid.

The sake reminded Kotsu of the sakazuki, the ritual ceremony that joined a man to the Yakuza. The initiation had been performed before a Shinto altar. James had found that amusing to find The Dark Society or Yami Shakai wanted to add religious significance to the ceremony. The initiation itself consisted of the sharing of sake between Yoshinori Watanabe, the head of the clan and Kotsu. The amounts of sake in the cups had been carefully measured to signify that it was an elder-younger relationship versus father-son or brother-brother. The FBI agent had promised to live under the code of the Bushido-humility, duty, and loyalty to one's lord.

It had taken 18 months for James to come to the attention of Saizo, his boss. At first the FBI suggested Jimmy start as a jiyage; but Kotsu didn't think he had the larcenous heart that was needed to be one of those in the business of persuading owners by any means to sell their property. So instead, he became a sokaiya-a sort of spy-he was after all keeping in the same line of work.

It had taken a magazine article in one of Japan's many innuendo-laden business publications to manifest a job opportunity with the Yakuza. James really didn't care on which side of the rumor/fact line the information he had about the vice-president of a major corporation having an affair with a 16-year-old rested. It showed the right people he could get information. And that's all that mattered.

The ringer in the room buzzed and ceased James's reminiscing. Kotsu cleared away his glass and adjusted the red, heart-shaped, anatheum flowers that had been placed in a black vase on the coffee table. Jimmy opened the front entrance to the hotel suite. The first ones to enter were the 2 bodyguards followed by a few shatei, senior bosses and wakashi, junior leaders. James gave a nod to each of them and bowed when his boss Saizo Kishimoto came in.

Kishimoto was a short, stocky man which spiky, grayish hair. He projected strength not just by his demeanor. It was the fact the top part of his pinky finger was missing. To a member of the Yakuza it signified that Saizo had been punished for an infraction. In the Yubitsume, he had ceremonially cut his finger and handed it to the clan leader for atonement. It should have projected weakness, but it didn't. In an age where a missing little finger could affect one's golf swing, it was viewed as an incredible sacrifice. The younger members were in awe of Kishimoto.

"I know that we profit from our activities in the United States, but this country . . ." Saizo said, shaking his head. "Kozooshoku," he mumbled under his breath and laughed. "All that waiting to get clearance into this country."

Kotsu chuckled at his boss's insult. He was saying that the United States was structurally corrupt. Sullivan had made sure that there was an ample amount of red tape. Even bribes would be useless thus giving the FBI time to prepare a sting operation. "They also do not have any sobaya." James was referring to the lack of noodle shops in the Denver area, which did not have a large Asian population.

One of the junior bosses had poured Saizo a glass of sake. "We are doing business with some gaijin?"

Kishimoto crooked up a soft black eyebrow, he was suspicious of dealing with non-Asians.

"They are not gurentai- I hope?" The junior boss added, nodding to his superior to show that he believed all foreigners to be juvenile deliquents. "Some young ones trying to make a name for themselves."

James chuckled at the joke. He didn't like the junior bosses, who were always trying to climb up the Yakuza ladder of authority. They tended to be meddlesome and wanted to push business in the U.S. Not just amphetamines for drugs, but also by investing in American corporations to launder money. "No, Ikeda assured me these gaijin can be trusted." Kotsu felt funny using the term for foreigner. He was a foreigner in his own country, he was a foreigner among these men even though they thought he was Japanese born and raised. Jimmy felt like a foreigner in his own skin lately.

"Good, good," Saizo said and sat down on the couch, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt.

"The initial meeting is tomorrow." He explained as the rest of the group of bosses shared a glass of sake before discussing business.

"Very well Kotsu, I am sure you handled all the arrangements." Saizo said without a second thought, knowing his advisor was able to handle the arrangements.

The undercover FBI had the Yakuza boss's implicit trust. Yes, James thought, everything was going according to plan.


	5. Chapter 5

The Absence of Shadows  
_Part 5_

* * *

**Surveillance Van outside**  
**MORI Japanese Restaurant**  
**Denver, CO**

"What if I cut my hair?" JD said, as he tucked his chin length hair behind his ears, the motion interfered with the headset he was wearing to listen to the conversation in the restaurant. He wouldn't miss much in the second to take off the set and place it back on; Vin and Ezra were inside with Ikeda and the rest of Yakuza, including James.

"Give it up, JD." Buck replied from the front seat. The binoculars he was holding shook as he chuckled.

The young agent tapped his sneaker against the floor of the van. "Lifts! I can put lifts in my shoes." People had told him it was his height that made him look so young, so maybe if he could gain an inch.

Sometimes he hated being cooped up in the van or at the computer. It seemed like Ezra and the others were always doing the exciting stuff. The adrenaline rush from yelling "ATF" as JD hastily entered into a building only lasted so long, going undercover would be an ultimate high. In light of the recent going-ons, the young agent thought he shouldn't mention his thoughts out loud. He should especially avoid using the word 'high.' Everything was better now, and everyone's attention was focussed on the case but JD didn't want to pick at a just healed scab and he didn't want to remind himself that he had acted like an idiot.

Josiah shook his head, and laughed as he kept an eye on the grainy picture provided by the small video camera that JD had set up in a plant earlier in Mori's. The young agent had to place it in the foliage because the team did not want to make the owner aware in case he was involved in some level with the Yakuza. "Brother, I'm sure one of these days you'll get your chance."

Chris sighed, listening intently to the conversation in the restaurant, but still aware of the discussion in the van. "With all the guns in schools I'm sure I'm gonna be needing you."

Dunne snorted, not at Larabee but what he had just over heard.

"Don't be too happy about it, JD." Nathan added when he heard JD's muffled laugh. He was also sitting in the front seat next to Buck keeping an eye on Mori's. "Guns in schools don't make our lives easier."

Dunne shook his head. "Oh no, it's not that, Vin just said 'no' to sushi." The sharpshooter had the justifiable reputation of being a human garbage disposal. He liked all types of food, and made JD look like he was a picky eater. The young agent's mother always blessed his appetite. JD wondered what she would say about Vin.

Wilmington put his binoculars down and stepped into the rear of the van, next to his roommate. "That boy said no to food? I don't believe it!" Buck picked up the spare headset and pressed it against his ear in hopes he would hear Tanner. "JD make me a copy of that tape."

Dunne nodded, and gave his roommate the thumbs up, until he saw Chris glaring at him. "That's not a good idea, Buck." JD said solemnly at which Wilmington winked. There was always some prank happening in the office with Vin as the mastermind behind it. Buck and JD just liked to have some ammunition for future use. Secretly, though it was what the young agent most enjoyed about team-the sense of fraternity. Dunne loved going to work and loved hanging out with his co-workers. It had all almost been threatened.

"Everything is going well on my end." Josiah reclined back in his chair and pointed to the screen of images. "Relaxed body language." There on the video was Ikeda, Ezra and Vin and two men from the pictures the FBI had shown the team. On the other side of the low table was James sitting next to Saizo and two other men, bodyguards flanked the entrance and two more were loitering outside.

"Are you trying to jinx us Josiah?" Buck commented from the front as he sat in the passenger side of the van. "And me without my lucky chicken." He placed the strap of the binocular over his head and somehow ended up hitting his nose with the binocular lens. "Oww."

"I was enjoying a little injury free moment." Nathan said under his breath. He glanced at the mustached agent and since there was no blood went back to staring at Mori's.

Chris sighed and JD shrugged his shoulders and tried to surpress a smile. Larabee was serious especially with two men inside, undercover. But, so far there was no sign of trouble.

"What's gaijin?" JD said, puzzled at the strange term. "Saizo keeps saying it."

"Foreigners," Chris replied without looking at Dunne. Instead he scrutinized the video feed, checking to make sure his agents were fine. JD figured he was still spooked by the last meeting Ezra and Vin had with Ikeda.

"Our gaijin seem to be trusted by Ikeda and the others." Josiah said as he moved out of the way so that Chris would have an unobstructed view.

"Yep," JD nodded. "'Cause Ezra just said something in Japanese." Dunne reminded himself that if he stood a better chance to go undercover if he'd learn a foreign language. He had excelled in Latin in high school, too bad it was not a spoken language. Maybe he could have Casey give him private Spanish lessons. It would be a great excuse to use to spend more time with her. Hell, with his luck he'd end up having to go under in a high school and learn Spanish by picking it up as an elective. JD tapped the console in front of him. He was still young, and as Josiah had often told him he had to work on his patience.

"Think they'll make plans for the actual exchange?" Buck said as he momentarily placed the binoculars down and rubbed his eyes. The meeting seemed to be breaking up after 2 hours. JD couldn't wait until it wrapped up. His butt had fallen asleep and he was hungry. Chris had banned everything except water in the surveillance van after Dunne had spilled a Mountain Dew on the computer. JD still winced at the sticky memory.

"Doesn't sound like it." Larabee replied, writing out some notes and questions that he would ask Vin and Ezra later in the conference room.

"Think Vin's friend will get word to us so we can make plans ahead of time?" JD asked as he took his headset off and held one of the earphones against his right ear. The young agent liked James; he seemed to be cool. He had that air of mystery that Vin, Ezra and Chris had about them. Dunne knew they had been involved in some sort of shit, but Buck had warned him never to ask about it. JD decided he needed to cultivate some mystery around himself that would make him look older.

On the television screen the occupants of the restaurant bowed to each other and shook hands. "We'll see." Chris replied.

* * *

_Shinde mo ienai_  
_Translation: I'll die before I tell you what really went on._

* * *

**Denver, Colorado**

It had been gnawing at Vin for days. Even now as Vin drove to work, he was still pondering. Tanner saw something in the glint of Jimmy's eyes at Mori's restaurant. It was just a flicker and the sharpshooter had taken the moment to study it. That's why he had waved off the passed sushi.

JD and Buck had harassed him about saying no to food. They had gone so far as to make a video using the as a background the words, 'Just Say No!' Then the next picture was of a piece of sushi with an 'X' through it. In the background could be heard the waiter at Mori's asking Vin,

"Sushi?"

And Vin responding, "No."

The tape was screened in the conference room. At first there was a pause and the team looked at Vin, nervous that he would be upset at the roommates for poking fun at cocaine incident.

JD shifted nervously in his chair. "I told you so." He mumbled to Buck.

Tanner saw Wilmington gulp, and figured he better let them off the hook. . .in a minute or so. "You two have way too much time on your hands." Vin announced in a low voice, not looking at the two troublemakers sensing they were sweating.

"I . . ." JD squeaked.

Chris cleared his throat, and glared at the twosome. "I have some paperwork with the names Agent Wilmington and Dunne on it."

Buck nodded, accepting the punishment.

At that point the sharpshooter smiled then started to laugh. The others joined him. The video had been funny, but Dunne and Wilmington's reaction were priceless.

Vin lowered the radio so that he could think. The tunes were interrupting his thought process. The streets were still deserted so at the next stop light Tanner executed a U-turn with the Jeep. He pulled his cellphone out of his suede jacket pocket and pressed the number 2. The phone speedily dialed the numbers and he got the Chris's voice mailbox.

"I'll be in later." Tanner said as he maneuvered the steering wheel. "I'm checking on a snitch." Vin added the excuse. They had just received the preliminaries on another case. The sharpshooter wanted it to seem as though he was doing some research instead of letting Larabee know he was planning on tailing James.

Tanner pulled his rumpled, soiled baseball cap from the glove compartment, and tucked his hair up as he stopped at a red light. In a few minutes he was sitting on a bench outside of the hotel, with a newspaper propped in front of him.

James had told them that the Yakuza contingent was planning on a busy schedule while they were in Colorado. Vin knew that with a little patience they would eventually emerge from the Giorgio Hotel and hopefully Tanner would get some questions answered.

He stayed on the hard wooden seat for an hour before the emergence of James and some other men that Vin recognized as Saizo and some junior bosses. Kotsu's head was bent in conversation with his boss, only a hair's breath away. It seemed so intimate in a way.

Damn, Vin hoped he wasn't right as he roughly turned the page of the newspaper. Jimmy a traitor?

Tanner watched as the FBI agent escorted Saizo to an awaiting vehicle. As the twosome stood by the limousine, Kotsu looked up and saw Vin. He frowned slightly, but quickly hid the emotion. In a few minutes the Yakuza senior boss was in the car with the others and Jimmy was waving them off.

Vin didn't look back and made his way to the adjacent park, across from the hotel. There he walked a distance in the park and waited, leaning against a tree. He watched as the ducks whimsically played in a pond across the way until he heard the approaching footsteps.

"You gonna tell me what's going on?" Tanner said to Jimmy, as the FBI agent walked past the sharpshooter and also directed his attention to the pond.

James stood ramrod straight. "It's better you don't know."

Vin stepped away from the tree, clenching his fists angry he was getting entangled in something he knew nothing about. "You have my friends involved in this."

Kotsu placed his arms on his hips. "Please, you really believe that any of us isn't expendable?" Jimmy shook his head. "Tsk, tsk, you should know better not to get close to anyone."

"You don't fuckin' know me or my friends." Vin raised his voice to a harsh whisper, facing Kotsu. "What the hell are you up to? You double dealing?"

James turned, squinted and laughed. He stared at Vin a minute longer before continuing. "Look, I know what you did."

Tanner stopped pacing, berating himself for not becoming suspicious sooner. Vin remembered the man he had met as an eighteen- year- old enlistee. What happened in ten years that had changed Kotsu so much? But Vin needed another question answered first. "What I did?" He finally asked.

James looked around, making sure he was not followed or being spied upon. Then he backed up a few paces so he was in line with Tanner but not looking at him. "I reviewed the videotape and I know Ikeda's ways." Kotsu mimicked Ikeda's high pitch voice. "Don't you want a taste of the merchandise?"

Vin didn't want to react but he heard the growl rolling in his throat. James must have heard the animal sound.

"I figured as much and I figured that your 'friends' are involved in one huge cover-up." Kotsu stared at Vin looking for more of a reaction.

Tanner looked away, trying to keep his face a void of emotion but he felt the muscles in his cheek twitch as he ground his teeth.

"Some rumors here and there and your team's careers go down the tubes." He paused for a second to let that thought sink in. "So, Tanner, we'll forget this meeting and I'll forget what I know." James gestured with his hand to show he was wiping the slate clean.

Vin reached out and squeezed the FBI agent's arm. He could feel the bicep under his hand beneath the silky suit. "That'll be easy since I don't know what the fuck is happening, Kotsu."

Jimmy looked down at the hand gripping his arm. Then he stared at Vin, who released the arm and gave James a shove. Kotsu adjusted his suit sleeve. "Have Ezra stay close to you, and you both should be okay." The FBI agent said as he walked away. He then turned around. "Don't worry about Ikeda either."

Tanner wanted to run after Kotsu and beat him to a pulp. Instead Vin had to settle at leaning his head against the gritty tree bark. The sharpshooter could attack Kotsu, but that would bring about too many questions from the Bureau and James knew about the cocaine. That stupid coke refused to be swept under the rug, now because of it Tanner was being blackmailed into silence. He and his friends were involved in some dark conspiracy with Jimmy, and Vin had to decide how to warn his friends.

* * *

**ATF Offices**  
**11th Floor**  
**Federal Building**  
**Denver, CO**

Ezra typed hesitantly, filling in the boxes on the computer form. Standish didn't mind reports where he wrote freely, but having to stay in boxes always grated on the undercover agent and hampered his manipulation of the English language.

Standish pecked away until Vin came in, and quietly took a seat in the guest chair in front of Ezra's desk. Tanner was silent, but the southerner sensed the heaviness in the air.

The undercover agent cleared his throat. "Agent Tanner I would love to play, 'Guess what the ATF agent is thinking', but I am unable to presently as I am doing my expense report." With a flourish Ezra pressed the 'enter' key. "The accountants do not believe that a Kiton is necessary."

Tanner seemed to slouch even more in the garish, wooden chair. Ezra wondered how that was possible in the uncomfortable chair that Standish suspected was originally in a 1950's interrogation room. He was starting to believe that Vin had had a lack of skeletal structure. Those thoughts were interrupted by the sharpshooter's question. "Is it?"

Ezra lifted an eyebrow, forgetting the previous conversation. The southerner smiled as he remembered the beautiful, tailored suit. "Why, if I wish to attract a better level of criminal then yes, a ten thousand dollar suit commands respect."

The sharpshooter whistled between his teeth. "Hell, Ez, a 10 grand suit should walk, talk and do your job all by itself."

Standish hit the print key and listened to the distinct humming of the laser printer. "Am I getting a preview of what our leader will say when I ask him to sign off on this?" Even Ezra had noticed that Chris and Vin seemed on some occasions to read each other's thoughts.

Vin shrugged his shoulders in response.

The southerner folded his hands, and stared at the longhaired agent. He still had yet to discover why Vin was in his office. The sharpshooter should have been ecstatic seeing as the whole team was covering up his cocaine incident. "Are you going to tell me why you are languishing in my office? I do become tired of reading minds and body language." Ezra smiled as he added, "I've meant to ask you if you get tired of it to?"

"Sometimes," Tanner closed his eyes for a moment. "Especially when I figure out that my friend is up to no good." Vin said in a low drawl.

Ezra looked around to make sure no one was listening in on their conversation. The rest of the team seemed distracted with their work, and in addition the cacophony of fax machines and telephones muffled their dialogue. "Agent Kotsu?"

The sharpshooter did not look up; he tapped his fingertips together in contemplation. "I thought something wasn't right, and well, something is going to happen at the exchange."

Ezra recalled their conversation in the car, when they were driving to Kojay's. Standish sighed. "Must you always be cryptic?"

Vin snorted. "Sorry, all Jimmy told me is that you should stick close." Tanner fidgeted in his chair as Ezra asked the most important question.

Standish rubbed his eyes, on these days he really wished he had gone into the financial services industry. "Have you told Chris yet?"

Vin shook his head. The longhaired agent paled slightly under the fluorescent lights. "First the coke and now this-and Kotsu knows about the coke too."

The southerner understood the sharpshooter's feelings. Just as one situation was resolved, another one was rearing its head. Ezra's stomach also churned at the thought that someone outside of the seven knew about the cover-up. Plainly, Standish didn't like this playing field; they now had to trust another individual to keep quiet. They needed to talk to Chris. The undercover agent stood up. "Let's go see our leader." He picked up the form from the printer. "Maybe I can slip this in while he's distracted."

Vin smirked and followed Ezra, as usual without knocking the two entered the leader's office. Tanner sat down, while Standish stood. He needed to be present in the office and stand witness at what turn his life would take.

Chris had the phone in his hand as if he was supposed to make a call. Slowly, he placed the phone back in its cradle.

Nervously, the sharpshooter cleared his throat. "Figurin' you ought to know that Kotsu is blackmailing me. . .all of us." Vin glanced away for a moment before continuing. "He knows about the coke, and I know that there is something wrong with the whole operation."

Ezra watched as Larabee tightly squeezed his eyes shut and ran his hand through his blonde hair. Standish knew the thoughts going through Chris's mind. They were the same ones that had assailed him moments ago. In a way it was like seeing your life pass before your eyes.

"Will he keep quiet?" Larabee said as he stood up and took in the view from his window.

"Yeah, as long as he knows he has us over a barrel." Vin replied as he came forward on his chair and rested his head against his hands. "Said something about taking care of Ikeda too. I got no idea what that means."

Ezra stepped forward so that he was in between both men. In those moments of silence Standish knew everything could come to an end. The southerner felt the fear permeate throughout the office. One man was about to destroy seven.

Vin broke the silence, standing he stated, "I'm sorry about all this." The longhaired agent looked down. "Chris, I need to resign."

The undercover agent placed his hand upon Tanner's shoulder. "Vin, don't be hasty." Standish wanted to at least go down with a fight. He didn't like being the mark in a con, and he didn't want Kotsu to win either.

"I am going to agree with Ezra, cowboy." Chris gave the undercover agent a nod. Larabee took his seat once more. "At least we know we have to be careful."

"Extra diligent." The southerner added as he pushed the sharpshooter back into his chair. Standish was glad that he didn't need to convince Larabee, as he had to do in the saloon. Ezra was trying to see if he could beat the odds and only be glared by the leader on a weekly basis instead of daily basis.

Alas, the Larabee glare was directed at him again. "Don't push it, Ezra."

Standish had forgotten that Chris hated to be reminded that sometimes the undercover agent and the leader agreed. The southerner folded his expense report and placed it in his suit pocket. Perhaps now was not the time.

"We'll get through this." Larabee again picked up the phone and punched two numbers. "Buck, get everyone in my office."

Within a minute JD, Buck, Nathan and Josiah, holding a mug of coffee, were gathered in the office. Ezra listened as Chris explained the situation. One by one each of the men extended a caring tendril to Vin who was seated rigidly. Standish watched as Josiah squeezed the sharpshooter's shoulder. Buck ruffled Tanner's long hair and commented, "Hell, Junior." Nathan gave Vin a nod and JD sat next to Tanner on the arm of the chair.

The southerner observed it all, enjoying the protectiveness of the group as they closed ranks. Somehow even though technically the odds where against Team Seven, Ezra thought they may be able to pull a miracle. The undercover agent admonished himself-realists did not believe in miracles. Truly, he had to curtail his time with Josiah.

"We need to try to figure out what is going on with Kotsu." Larabee said pointedly as each man. "I want to know **everything**about him."

Ezra began to think of people at the Bureau that owed him some favors. Surely, someone had fond memories of his time with the FBI.

In moments the team filed out on a mission to save the their friends. Vin paused a moment and held out his hand to Chris, who grasped the forearm. "Thanks," Tanner drawled.

Carefully, Standish watched the scene and slipped the form onto Larabee's desk. He backed out quietly, and was halfway to his desk when he heard the roar.

"EZRA!"

Chris's howl though came second to the cellphone that was ringing with urgency. Standish ducked into Buck's office area, nodding at Wilmington to keep silent. The undercover agent took a deep breath and finally hit the OK button on the phone.

"Simpson," Ezra said into the phone. "Yes, Mister Ikeda. It was an intriguing meeting. Are you perhaps calling me with good news?" Standish closed his eyes, hoping that they would have more time to dig up some information on Kotsu before the exchange. "Tomorrow…" The southerner said trying to quell the surprise in his voice. "Excellent…for the agreed upon price?"

Buck roughly scribbled out 'TOMORROW?' on a post –it note and held it up for the undercover agent. Ezra nodded and Wilmington pressed down the ends of his mustache in thought.

"Yes, very fair. . . .My associate and I will be there." Standish concluded as he closed the phone and pushed down the antenna.

Wilmington had crumpled the note and held his closed hand against his forehead. "Sh**, sh**, sh**, Ez. This ain't good."

"I agree wholeheartedly, Agent Wilmington." Ezra said as he recovered from the unexpected call. He eyed the office that he had just left. Standish adjusted his suit. "I will inform Agents Larabee and Tanner."

"And I'll tell everyone else." Buck said, and then added with a grumble. "I hate to be the messenger."

Ezra could see through the slightly ajar door that Vin was still in Chris's office. Literally, there would be only a few calm moments before the storm. Wilmington was right, the messenger was not an enviable position.

Without knocking Standish entered. Larabee held up the form the undercover agent had sneaked into the inbox tray. Scowling, Chris said, "Ezra, ten grand for a suit? You've got to be kidding me." The leader crumpled up the paper and threw it in the trash.

Standish blinked at his hard work being discarded. He resolved that one day he would get the custom made Kiton suit. Then he remembered why he had come to Chris's office. "Well actually that is the least of our problems." Ezra gave a side-glance to Vin, who was leaning against a set of file cabinets. "I received a phone call. The exchange has been arranged for tomorrow." The words hung in the air for a moment before the sharpshooter attacked the file cabinet with an elbow.

The clanging sound resonated for a minute. "Damn!"

Larabee remained frozen for a moment, his blonde brows knit together in thought. The noise brought a reaction. "Keep it together, Vin."

Tanner nodded and rubbed his elbow. Ezra watched as the sharpshooter's Adam's apple danced in his throat as he swallowed his feelings. Standish swallowed in empathy.

Earlier in the morning the southerner had embraced the day, looking forward to time spent in the office. Who would have known by the conclusion of that morning Standish would be wondering if he would be alive tomorrow?

Chris turned to Ezra who had stayed silent after he had delivered the news. "I want everyone in the conference room, now."

The undercover agent nodded. He left the office and went to find his associates. He shuddered as he saw them gathered together by Nathan's desk. Seeing them together made Ezra think that as much as Ezra believed he was in control-he truly wasn't. There were too many variables in life. The cocaine incident and Kotsu illustrated that fact. Agent Standish was scared to the core.

* * *

_Wash blood with blood_  
_Yakuza saying_

* * *

**Warehouse District**  
**Denver, CO**

Again Vin found himself in another warehouse, this time Ikeda was on his side of the table and Kotsu; his one time friend was on the other side with the Yakuza. Tanner rubbed the back of his neck yet again in an attempt to mat down the hairs that had prickled with the knowledge that something was going to happen.

It didn't help either that the sharpshooter hadn't gotten enough sleep. The team had gone home at midnight to get some rest. After tossing and turning for a few hours, Vin had decided to head into work. At the same time he pulled the Jeep into his space, Larabee pulled in right behind him. In silence they went upstairs and spent the time with a cup of strong coffee and the rising sun.

"Chris, I have a bad feeling about this." The sharpshooter said as he swirled the remnants of the thick black liquid in his mug.

"We're all in this together, cowboy." Larabee had replied. The sentiment should have been comforting to Vin along with the knowledge that this time JD was able to wire the warehouse for sound and video. But Tanner still felt uncomfortable because Jimmy, as a FBI agent, knew also they were being watched.

Kotsu was on the other side of the table enjoying some sake, which had been shared by all the men present in symbol of the deal coming to fruition. Ezra was by Vin's side talking in low tones to Ikeda.

"I trust that a substantial deposit has been made into my Swiss bank account?" Standish was saying into Ikeda's ear.

The Asian man smiled and patted the southerner on the back. "Don't worry. The Yakuza can be trusted. We are very rich men now."

Ezra smiled back and turned to Vin, whispering, "I think we can leave soon."

Tanner nodded, hoping that perhaps they could leave the warehouse unscathed and Jimmy had made some idle threat to scare Vin away from looking into Kotsu's activities. Vin could almost lull himself into believing that until he eyed the exits. He had to quell the feeling of being trapped as he saw Ikeda's men blocked all doors. It had been decided that weapons would not be allowed, although in the distance there were crates of weapons, none of them loaded.

Suddenly, as if in slow motion the man guarding the weapons fell to the ground. Vin was momentarily bewildered, his mind had wrapped around the thought that the weapons were not loaded and yet the man had fallen from a gunshot, which was blossoming, red on his chest.

Roughly, the sharpshooter grabbed a portion of Ezra's suit and dragged him down to the cement ground. Vin had remembered that Jimmy had warned him to keep Standish close. They crashed to the ground and watched as one by one the Yakuza and Ikeda's men were struck down. The victims tried to run, they yelled, shooting in the rafters to an unseen, silent assassin. It was all to no avail, as they each fell mercilessly to the whispering bullets.

Tanner could hear his own harsh breathing echoed in Ezra. They were forced to play the part of helpless witnesses, a role neither was accustomed to playing. Standish pointed to Jimmy across the way who was crouched in the corner. Slowly, they began to crawl to Kotsu, unsure if the silence meant they were safe or if they would be the next casualties. Finally Vin heard words of salvation.

"ATF!" Chris yelled as he stormed in the door on the east side.

Buck came in from the opposite side, Glock raised. "God help us."

Tanner could only imagine how gruesome the site was. He had felt the blood seeping in his clothes as he crawled on the ground. The warehouse was tainted with blood and fallen bodies.

"Ezra, Vin, you all right?" Josiah boomed as the others filed in, securing the scene.

"We seem to be in one piece." Standish commented, as he got to his knees and looked disgustingly at his stained jacket and pants.

The sharpshooter didn't respond, instead he kept glaring at Kotsu, who was appraising the site before him. "Did you get the shooter?" Jimmy asked as he stepped nonchalantly over the body of Saizo.

The team had dispersed looking for the shooter. Dunne and Jackson stayed in the area. Nathan was checking to see if any of the Yakuza or Ikeda's men were still alive.

JD shook his head, and kept his gun raised at the FBI agent. "We lost video and came in when we heard the yelling."

It was the smug smile that Jimmy gave that set Vin off. Tanner had no doubt that Kotsu had arranged for the death of these men and risked the lives of Team 7 in the process. "Son-of –a –bitch!" The sharpshooter yelled as he heaved himself off the floor and propelled himself at his former friend.

* * *

**Warehouse 321**  
**Denver, CO**

Buck headed up the stairs of the warehouse with Josiah following behind him. Chris had taken the steps on the opposite end of the warehouse. Warily, they climbed the steps looking for the shooter.

Wilmington looked down to the massacre below, bodies had fallen haphazardly and blood pooled around the victims. The mustached agent gave a quick glance to his roommate to make sure he was fine. However, it was the scuffle between Vin and Kotsu, which got Buck's attention.

Wilmington gestured with his finger for Josiah to look down; from across the way he made eye contact with Chris. Larabee quickly glanced downward and shook his head. Buck flashed a smile. It was good to see Junior riled and his friend, James, deserved to be on the opposite end of Tanner's temper. The ladies man only hoped that Vin could win this match, and that Buck could find the shooter so he could go back down and watch the fight.

Hell, Buck thought, he wanted to get some licks in himself. Tanner had a hell of a time of it lately, what with Chris, his best friend and boss actually considering firing the sharpshooter. Wilmington had been placed in the unaccustomed position of defending Tanner's actions to Larabee. General weirdness continued when Vin revealed that his friend was up to no good. Buck didn't like people who put the team in danger.

The mustached agent snapped his head up, he could have sworn he heard something. He placed his hand out so that Sanchez would stop and listen. All Wilmington heard though were punches and kicks being thrown below echoing through the expansive warehouse.

Chris had made it to the second level and was weaving in and out of the rafters, hunting. Buck and Josiah reached the same level. Sanchez gestured he was going left to search. Wilmington heard his boots crunch over the dust and debris that littered the wood floor. But, he also heard another sound. Buck whistled to get Chris's attention and motioned that he was going to check out an area by the windows. There were planks of wood leaning against the wall, providing a hiding space for someone. Larabee followed a few feet behind, covering Wilmington.

"This is the ATF," the mustached agent stated. "Come on out of there." Buck noted the movement between the slats of gray wood. Wilmington quickly dove for cover as a shot was fired going wide and landing in rafter above. Chris began shooting, as did Josiah, who came in running at the sound of gunfire. The assassin continued to return fire even though he was outgunned and the planks of wood protecting him were splintering under the assault. Over the hail of bullets Buck heard a roar of a scream as the shooter finally revealed himself.

Dressed in black from head to toe with a sniper rifle against his shoulder he began firing haphazardly at the ATF agents. Wilmington and the others returned fire, watching as bullets hit the black clad sniper. The assassin continued to fire his remaining rounds and then turned, ignoring Buck, Chris and Josiah and fired at the window.

"No!" Wilmington yelled, knowing the guy was going to jump out the window with the answers to some major questions. The sniper was dying anyway but perhaps they could have gotten a deathbed confession.

"Damn it!" Larabee said, as he charged forward-too late as the sniper stepped out to his death.

The three ATF agents looked out the jagged window.

"Are you guys all right?" Nathan yelled as he ran up the stairs.

"We're fine, Nate." Buck replied as he stepped away from the window getting his full at seeing the crumpled, wasted body below.

"Then your assistance is needed downstairs." Ezra said, coming up the flight of stairs that Chris had used.

"And you left JD down there to add to the trouble?" Wilmington made his way to the staircase quickly. The kid was a magnet for trouble and with Vin and James in volatile moods . . .

* * *

**Warehouse**  
**Denver, Colorado**

"Go, go, I'll watch Vin's back." JD yelled over the gunfire that had erupted. Tanner and Kotsu were oblivious to the noise as they battled.

Dunne couldn't believe it when the sharpshooter threw himself on top of Kotsu and began punching. At first James hadn't defended himself against the attack and soon his nose was broken and bleeding. The sensation must have prompted the FBI agent to react because right after he pushed Vin off and began to fight back.

JD stood mesmerized by the primal combatants, as were Nathan and Ezra. Jackson had stopped checking on the bodies to watch.

Dunne had never seen fighting at such a fever's pitch. James began using his elbows, slicing through the air with uppercuts followed by a spinning backfist to Vin's head.

Tanner deflected the blow, but was caught by an unexpected hook kick that got him in the kidney. Vin stumbled slightly.

Ezra stepped forward, but stopped when he heard the gunfire. JD looked up to the second floor where the rest of the team had gone. The young agent looked back at Vin and then glanced at the second floor forlornly. In a minute they came to a decision and JD stayed behind.

"Stay put," Standish ordered as he and Nathan headed upstairs to check on Josiah, Chris and Buck.

So JD focussed on watching Tanner, hoping he wasn't going to get killed and that the others were fine. Vin threw a low sidekick to Kotsu's knee causing the man to howl in pain. James tried in retaliation to sweep the sharpshooter's foot but Vin avoided the sweep and sent a backfist to Kotsu's jaw.

The fight did not stay contained; the two former friends used the warehouse floor. James threw one of the metal chairs at Vin, which he was able to dodge. However Tanner then found himself being attacked by an unexpected wheel kick followed by a jumping front kick off the front foot. Tanner landed hard on the floor.

JD wanted to help. He still had his gun drawn. Dunne could see Vin's lip was cut and blood was streaming down his neck. The young agent gulped, he didn't want to stand by and let his friend get beaten. There was also the unsaid rule about shooting someone in the back. Luckily, he didn't have to make any decision as another hand came over his gun hand.

"Let him finish it." Buck said, giving Dunne a reassuring pat on the back. JD was relieved as the rest of the team came down the stairs no worse for the wear. Chris came running forward as he saw Kotsu lifting another gray, folding chair ready to strike Vin who was still on the ground.

JD watched as Buck spun around and faced the scowling leader. Wilmington stretched out his arms to block Larabee. "It's Junior's fight, Chris."

Larabee looked ready to pummel his old friend. JD's attention was quickly diverted to Kotsu who was yelling, as he was about to bring the chair crashing down. Finally, Vin came out of his daze and rolled out of the way. The chair clanged against the concrete floor and the sharpshooter, while still down, kicked out at James's leg.

Kotsu bent down to stop the aching in his knee, this gave Vin enough time to get up and send a roundhouse kick to the back of the FBI agent's head. Floundering from the blow, James fell face first on the concrete.

JD could hear Vin's haggard breathing; the team stepped forward closing the few feet of space they had allowed the two men. Roughly, Vin turned Kotsu over and shot out a y-strike to James's throat.

The team heard the gargling noises the FBI agent was making as he was trying to speak. Tanner eased up on the tension he was putting on James's neck. In one breath the mystery was solved.

"They killed my brother. They all killed my brother."

* * *

**ATF Offices**  
**Federal Building**  
**Denver, Colorado**

Tanner had released the y-strike on Kotsu's throat out of surprise. "Since when do you have a brother?" The sharpshooter had asked, knowing that James had never mentioned having a brother in the past. Vin would have remembered his friend having family. The reason why he had become friendly with the FBI agent was because he believed they had similar backgrounds.

Jimmy didn't have a chance to answer as the FBI agents followed by the local police stormed into the warehouse.

"Larabee, we want to take that man into custody." Agent Sullivan strode in, barking his order to Chris as he pointed at Jimmy.

The other agents and police had spread out, taking in the scene. Someone yelled out, "Get the coroner in here."

When Agent Sullivan reached the eight men, his eyes opened wide at Kotsu lying on the ground, beaten. "What the hell happened here?" The agent assisted James to his feet, then signaled for a young man wearing an FBI windbreaker. "Have this man taken care of," Sullivan told the agent. "Then read him his rights and take him to headquarters." The young agent nodded, and escorted Kotsu away.

Jimmy turned and winked at Vin. The sharpshooter began to step forward. Tanner was reeling. He wanted to send Kotsu to hell and back again. They still had no answers and James was walking away. Tanner felt anxious. The sharpshooter had no idea what James would tell the FBI- maybe about the cocaine? Did the Fibbies know about James's brother? What would he say about the dead Yakuza? Vin felt the leader's hand on his shoulder squeezing his already sore body.

"So what the hell happened here, Larabee?" Sullivan asked again, suspiciously looking over the team.

Chris didn't answer right away. Vin felt the hand on his shoulder drop and he turned to face Larabee. The leader looked at the sharpshooter's appearance "Nathan, will you check him out." Chris said, shaking his head.

Tanner wanted to protest, he stepped his feet apart as if saying he was standing his ground. Larabee also was not to be deterred and pointed to Nathan. "Move."

Vin did not want to comply, but he also knew that in his present state of mind he would be ineffective. Chris was alert enough to walk the fine line of knowing how much information to reveal or not to reveal. Shuffling, Tanner walked over to Jackson. He paused a moment as he looked down and saw Ikeda's body. Vin couldn't say he was sorry to see the bastard dead. He had caused enough trouble. Carefully, Tanner stepped over the body, afraid the Asian man would awaken from his dark slumber and force him to take another line of coke. The sharpshooter shivered at having to make that decision again.

Vin walked into Nathan's capable hands, grateful the medic had made peace with what the longhaired agent had done. Tanner wondered if the incident would ever be far from his thoughts with Kotsu, a liability, running around. The sharpshooter was not paying attention to the medic's ministrations. He knew he wasn't hurt badly, just a little battered. Vin continued to listen to Chris and Agent Sullivan. Buck, JD, Ezra and Josiah moved in closer to Larabee in a show of protection.

"Larabee?" Mike Sullivan said impatiently. "I want some answers."

The leader replied in a low voice filled with controlled anger. "That man," Chris gestured to Kotsu who was being escorted out the building, "has your answers. My team is leaving."

Sullivan's face flamed bright red and he began to sputter. "We may have questions for you."

The FBI agents and local police stopped working and gave the team a wide berth as they left. Vin watched as Buck hung back for a minute so he would be the last one to exit the warehouse. With a wink to Tanner, Wilmington yelled, "Elvis has left the building!"

They headed back to the office, and to the conference room. Nathan stopped by his desk to pick up the medical kit he kept there. Jackson proceeded to disinfect the open cut over Vin's eye and the cut on his lip. Instead of the metallic taste of blood lingering in Tanner's mouth he tasted a mixture of peroxide and antibiotic ointment.

"Can you breathe okay?" Jackson asked, as he looked at his handiwork.

"I didn't break any ribs, Nate." Vin gingerly licked his lips. The others were discussing the case. JD was running his laptop to see what he could bring up on James Kotsu. "And I'm not going to the hospital."

Nathan raised his brows and placed a hand on Tanner's lower back.

Vin hissed and flinched away.

"I saw the shot to the kidney, Vin." Jackson said, handing the sharpshooter two ibuprofen and a glass of water. "If you start urinating blood you need to get to a hospital."

Ezra, who was sitting across the table laughed. Tanner didn't know what was funny. Standish looked a mess with the blood stained suit. "You realize that Agent Tanner's usual process is to be close to death before he goes to a hospital."

"Shut up, Ezra. I'm fine." Vin winced as the cut on his lip opened again.

Buck interrupted the exchange as he pointed to the glass conference door. "Lucy, we have a lot of esplainin' to do."

"No more Nick at night, Buck." JD mumbled as he closed his computer. Travis was coming into the conference room.

"Finally,' Ezra muttered, as he brushed at some dried blood, "the esteemed Judge Travis can see my level of disrepair and sign off on a new suit."

"Boys," Travis said as he entered the room. " I heard about the blood bath today." The Judge pointedly stared at Standish's crimson covered attire.

"We had nothing to do with that, Judge." Chris replied from his chair at the head of the table. The table was calm, patiently waiting for Travis.

Travis waved his hand. "I know. The FBI's inside man said some rival Yakuza clan hired an assassin." The Judge looked over each man. "You were mighty lucky to make it out of there." Travis left, leaving a stunned group.

"I think we all need a drink." Buck stood up and the others followed him out, heading to the saloon.

* * *

**J. Watson's (The Saloon)**  
**Denver, Colorado**

Chris sat sipping his beer as did the others, trying to wash away the dissatisfaction from the bust. The conversation had ebbed and flowed reflecting the quietness of the bar early in the evening on a weeknight. JD was trying out loud to make sense of it all.

"Will we ever know what happened?"

Larabee had watched as Tanner fidgeted and kept his eyes downcast. Even against the cushion of the booth Chris could tell that Vin was uncomfortable. Bruises were already developing on his face and knuckles, by the morning there would probably be a colorful pattern tattooed on his body by Jimmy's kicks and punches.

"Damn, Chris, you know that he set it up." Buck's mustache twitched as he spoke. "He told us it had something to do with his brother."

"He told me he had no family." Vin said as he licked the scab that had knitted over his lip.

Josiah relaxed back into the booth. "I think, Brothers, it is time to move on." Sanchez topped off his half-empty mug of beer. "We all have our demons. It's on his conscience. We all have enough on ours." Chris saw Vin flinch at the remark. Larabee knew the sharpshooter was thinking about the cocaine, but the leader knew that the large agent was talking in generalities. Sanchez finished his comments. "We got out of the situation-obviously he lied and it all ends."

Nathan cleared his throat. "You can't when the snake keeps coming back to bite you."

Ezra groaned, his eyes following Nathan's line of sight. "Dear Lord, won't the man go away. I have to throw away an Zanella suit because of him."

Chris almost smiled, not because he was happy to see Kotsu sauntering into the saloon with a coat over his arm, but he saw the damage Vin had inflicted. James walked stiffly; his nose was taped, eyes showing the telltale bruising of a broken nose. Purple bruising could be seen above the collar of his shirt.

The FBI agent coughed as he made it to the table. "Just wanted to give my regards." Kotsu relaxed against the booth, shifting his coat to his other arm.

"Lovely, you may leave now." Ezra answered. He had changed at the office before they left for the saloon. Nathan practically had to tear the soiled suit from his hands. It was ruined and had to be disposed. At that moment Chris almost had felt sorry for Standish and considered approving a new fancy suit for the Southerner.

"Actually, I feel like I owe you something." Kotsu touched the white tape that secured his nose.

"I owe you a hell of a lot more than that." Vin stood up, but Chris tugged at his shirt and pulled him down.

Thankfully, Buck diffused the situation. "No, you want to gloat." Wilmington said to James, then leaned into JD. "It's a bad guy thing."

"I was involved in a win-win situation." Kotsu began to explain. "Even when you became a variable in the whole equation," James gestured to Vin, "I was able to use –well, it all equals win."

Tanner looked into his beer mug. Chris knew he was wondering if the cocaine incident would always come back to haunt him. Unfortunately, Larabee did not have an answer. It would never be brought up among the 6 men, but Kotsu was not one of them.

"What about your brother?" Dunne asked, filled with curiosity. Chris glared at the young agent-he would have to talk with JD later about tact and keeping quiet.

"I had a younger brother, looked like you in fact." James smiled at the young agent. "When my parents died I was put under foster care. My aunt didn't think she could handle two boys, Neil, my brother, went to live with her." Kotsu cleared his throat. "A common story, but then I got a letter from Neil. I left the army and took a job with the FBI." Again the FBI agent's eyes fell on JD. Dunne fidgeted at being stared. "My kid brother thought it would be cool to follow in my footsteps so he joined the DEA."

"This is a touching story." Buck added wryly.

Kotsu's mouth formed a hard line. "He got killed in an amphetamines deal with the Yakuza up in Seattle. Hell, I was the last to find out-the fucking FBI hid it from me." James gingerly touched his nose, and looked up as if fighting to control his emotions.

Josiah sighed. "So you got your revenge."

Revenge was something that Chris understood first hand. It had consumed him, as he tried to seek out his wife and son's murderers. It was always there, but luckily he had friends to stop him from crossing the line. Kotsu didn't have that and the FBI bureaucrats made it worse. Larabee let his mind wander for a moment- the team had many near misses and sometimes the thought of losing one of the members had caused them to exact revenge. The leader looked at all his men. They had never killed anyone in cold blood. The bad guys had always defended themselves and put up a fight. That was the difference.

"And it all worked out for you." Chris said in a low voice, not looking at the FBI agent.

James chuckled. "The FBI, CIA, hell, I gave them a gift. These guys are untouchable-They have connections to the White House. No one is going to question my version of events. I did everyone a favor-including your team." Kotsu smiled at Tanner.

"So won't the Yakuza nail your ass to the wall?" Vin asked, his blue eyes squinting at his one time friend.

"Thanks for asking, Tanner." James slipped slowly into his coat. "I'm heading to Japan now. I'll be a hero for escaping the clutches of the American legal system. I'll move up the ranks and do a little more damage." Kotsu was struggling with the sleeves so he opted to hang the coat over his shoulders. "Gentlemen, it was a pleasure doing business with you."

"Sir, you have overstayed your welcome." Ezra replied wryly.

"Son-of-a bitch gets to walk away and I can't do anything about it cause I walked us all into the whole mess." Vin said, holding the beer mug shakily in his hand.

Chris watched as James left the saloon for his flight. Larabee could only hope they would never see the man again. "He's a murderer and you had nothing to do with that, Vin." The leader said, snapping his attention back to the sharpshooter. Tanner was going to have put the incident in a box and lock it in his conscience.

Chris sensed that Ezra was still feeling protective of Vin as he raised a glass and announced, "A toast," the southerner continued, "To the past staying dead."

Larabee wondered at the strength of the team and the times ahead of them. Would there be other times when he'd be involved in a cover-up? Would eventually the rug all the mistakes and wrongdoings had been swept under become so threadbare and worn that he would not recognize the unraveling of the team?

He looked at each of his men. If something like this happened again to Vin then the leader knew the sharpshooter would resign and live a lonely and solitary life. The longhaired agent already was feeling guilty about placing the team in jeopardy.

Ezra of course wouldn't let that happen though. Standish was starting to grow satisfied with the little fish like Ikeda instead of the Yakuza.

JD had become a little older and wiser, and realized that although bravado, machismo and cockiness permeated the group, Team 7 were still humans and mortals like everyone else.

In the future Larabee had no doubt that Nathan wouldn't be so judgmental. The medic would respect individualism and the experiences of others.

Josiah and Buck had become the group's staunch defenders. They had shown Chris what was worth fighting for.

Chris thought about where he fit in –as leader and decision-maker. He was the one that made tomorrow happen. He who had feared each day without a beloved wife and son, made it possible for this team to continue and if he had to take a few secrets to his grave then so be it. His conscience was fully accepting. Larabee raised his glass to complete Standish's toast. " If something doesn't kill you it only makes you stronger."

The team nodded in mutual understanding Buck winked at the sharpshooter.

"Chris, you don't have to worry, Junior and the rest of us aren't going to end up screwed up like that fuck up."

Josiah concluded the toast, pointing his glass toward the door. "And to the day of reckoning for others."

* * *

**Epilogue:**

* * *

_Without sunlight there is an absence of shadows._  
_Memoirs of a Geisha by Arthur Golden_

* * *

**Kobe, Japan**

Yoshinori Watanabe, the oyabun of the Yamaguchi clan was calmly seated in his chair at the head of the kitchen table in Kyoto. He had received the news from the United States. He had been head of the clan for 35 years now, longer than anyone. He had remained in power because of one truth: He knew everything.

Watanabe cracked his knuckles. He hated to lose all those clan members, but they were gaining too much power and were posing a threat. He let Kotsu deal with them. Yoshinori had already set in motion how he was going to deal with James Kotsu, FBI agent. In 24 hours he would be a distant memory.

Revenge came in all forms and it worked in the shadows.

* * *

**THE END**


End file.
